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ta 


ure, 


] 


1 

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5 

6 

A   CASTLE    IN   SPAIN 


3.  JfODCl 


By  JAMES    DE    MILLE 


AUTHOR  OF  "CORD  AND  CRKESE"  "THE  CRYPTOGRAM"  "THE  DODGE  CLUl)' 
"THE  LIVING  LINK"  "THE  AMERICAN  BARON"  ETC. 


ILLUSTRATED   BY  E,  A.  ABBEY 


NEW    YORK 

HARPER     &     BROTHERS,    PUBLISHERS 

FRANKLIN    SQUARE 


JAMES  DE  MILLE'S  WORKS. 


A  CASTLE  IN  SPAIN.     A  Novel.     Illustrated  by  E.  A.  Abbey. 
8vo,  Paper,  50  cents;  Cloth,  $1.00. 

THE  DODGE  CLUB;    OR,  ITALY  IN   1.S59.      Illustrated.      Svo, 
Pajjcr,  60  cents;  Clotli,  $£,io. 

CORD  AND  CREESE.    A  Novel.    Illustrated.    Svo,  Paper,  60  cents. 

THE  CRYPTOGRAM.    A  Novel.    Illustrated.    Svo,  Paper,  75  cents, 

THE   AMERICAN  BARON.    A   Novel.     Illustrated.    Svo,  Paper, 
50  cents. 

THE  LIVING  LINK.    Illustrated.    Svo,  Paper,  60  cts. ;  Cloth,  $1.10. 


Published  by  HARPER  &  BROTHERS,  New  York. 

^^^  A  !iy  of  the  above  works  will  he  sent  by  mail,  f<ostage  prepaid,  to  any  part  of  the 
United  States,  on  receipt  0/  the  price. 


Copyright,  1S78,  by  James  De  Mili.e.— Copyright,  1S83,  by  Harper  &  Brothers. 


A  CASTLE  IN  SPAIN. 


CHAPTER  I. 

now    A    rAniY    OK    TliAVKLLEnd    SKT    Oi;T    ON    A 
JOUUNKY. 

The  train  for  the  Nortli  was  !il)out  to 
start  from  Madrid,  and  the  station  was  lilk'tl 
with  tlie  usual  varied  and  Inistling  crowd. 
Tliron^s  of  soldiers  were  there;  thr()n<4S 
of  priests;  tlironffs  of ''ivilians;  throngs  of 
peasants;  all  moving  to  and  fro,  intermin- 
gled with  the  railway  cmployCs,  and  show- 
ing the  power  of  steam  to  stir  up  even  the 
la/y  lSi)aniard  to  unwonted  punctuality  and 
jjortentous  activity.  In  the  midst  of  this 
busy  scene  two  men  stood  apart,  each  by 
himself,  with  eyes  fixed  upon  the  entrance, 
as  tliough  expecting  some  one  whoso  ad- 1 
vent  was  of  no  ordinary  importance.  One 
of  these  was  an  mimistakable  Spaniard, 
of  medium  size,  dark  complexion,  penetrat- 
ing black  eyes,  and  sombre  countenance. 
His  dress  was  that  of  a  civilian,  but  his 
bearing  was  military,  and  his  face  and  gen- 
eral expression  savored  of  the  camp.  The 
other  was  an  Englishman,  with  all  his  coun- 
try beaming  in  his  face,  tall  in  stature,  light 
in  comi)lexion,  with  gray  eyes,  and  open, 
frank  expression.  He  had  a  thin  mus- 
tache, llaxen  side  whiskers,  and  no  beard. 
He  stood  in  an  easy,  nonchalant  attitude, 
with  an  cyc-glas3  stuck  in  one  eye,  and  a 
light  cane  in  his  hand,  which  he  switched 
carelessly  upon  his  leg. 

At  length  the  two  were  roused  by  the 
ai)i)roach  of  .n  party  of  people  who  were 
undoubtedly  the  very  ones  for  whom  they 
had  l)een  thus  waitinsr. 

This  party  consisted  of  three  persons. 
First,  there  was  an  elderly  man,  florid, 
stoutish,  and  fussy— the  Paterfamilias  of 
Punch,  with  a  dash  of  the  heavy  father  of 
comedy.  He  was  evidently  in  a  tcrriljle 
strait,  and  halting  between  two  opinions, 


namely,  whether  he  should  stay  and  watch 
over  his  family,  or  go  away  and  see  after 
his  hm'<''iiiJr'-'. 

Then  there  was  a  lady  of  certain  or  un- 
certain age  —  a  faded,  washed-out  Ijlonde, 
who  surveyed  the  scene  with  a  mixture  of 
trepidation  and  caution. 

Neither  of  these,  however,  could  have 
had  any  interest  in  the  eyes  of  the  two 
watchers ;  and  it  n»ust  have  been  the  third 
member  of  this  party  who  had  led  them  to 
lie  in  wait. 

In  truth,  this  third  one  seemed  well 
worthy  of  such  attention.  She  was  a 
young  lady,  of  slight  and  elegant  figure; 
with  a  sweet  and  lovely  face,  round,  arch, 
full  of  liveliness,  merriment,  and  volatility, 
which  were  expressed  in  every  glance  of 
iier  siiarkling  eyes.  And  while  the  man 
lldgeted  and  the  woman  fussed,  this  young 
person  stood  with  admirable  self-posses- 
sion, looking  round  inciuiringly,  as  though 
siie  too  might  be  expecting  some  one. 

Paterfamilias  hesitated  a  little  longer, 
and  then  made  up  his  mind,  for,  telling  the 
ladies  to  Avait,  he  hurried  away  after  his 
luggage.  No  sooner  had  he  gone  than  the 
two  young  men,  who  had  held  back  till 
then,  hurried  to  the  .spot.  Tlue  English- 
man reached  it  first.  The  older  lady,  on 
seeing  him,  stared  for  an  instant,  and  then 
abruptly  turned  her  back,  thus  giving  him 
the  cut  direct  in  the  most  pointed  and  m- 
sulting  manner.  In  thus  turning  she  found 
herself  face  to  ilice  with  the  Spaniard,  who 
made  a  very  ceremonious  bow,  saying, 

'•It  gif  me  mooch  pleasure, Madame  Rus- 
sell, to  pay  my  respetts,  an'  to  weesh  the 
good-day." 

At  this  the  lady  hesitated,  as  though  in- 
tending to  give  this  man  also  the  cut,  but 
finally  she  cliose  to  be  gracious ;  so  extend 
ing  her  hand,  she  said, 


10 


A  CASTLE  IN   SPAIN. 


"Tliiiiik:^,  Ciiptaiu  Lnjuv.,  I'm  gliul  to  sec 
you,  for  Mr.  Itiisscll  lias  left  us,  iiiul  I'm  ii  i 
little  rrightoncd  in  this  crowd."' 

"  Oh,  then,"  suid  Lopez,  "  I  hope  to  hut" 
the  honnalre  to  condut  you  to  the  carriage, 
and  to  say  the  adios." 

'■  Oh,  thanks,"  .said  ]\Irs.  Russell,  "  1  shall 
really  i'eel  very  much  obliged." 

Now  the  Eii>:;lishnian  had  scarcely  seem- 
ed to  notice  the  insult  of  Mrs.  liussell ;  lor, 
brushing  past  her,  he  had  instantly  ad- 
vanced toward  the  young  lady  aforesaid, 
and  seized  lur  liand  with  u  tiuiek,  strong, 
hungry  grasp.  And  the  young  lady  ai'oru- 
said,  whose  eyes  had  l)(!('n  fixed  on  him  as 
he  advanced,  grasped  his  hand  also,  while  I 
a  llusii  passctl  over  iier  lovely  face,  and  her  \ 
eyes  rested  upon  him  with  a  look  which 
might  \v(;ll  thrill  throngli  and  through  the 
favored  recipient  of  such  a  glance. 

"  Why,  ]Mr.  Asliby  I''  said  she,  in  innocent 
surprise — "  you  here  ?" 

"  Katie,"  said  Ashby,  in  a  tremulous  voice 
— "little  darling,"  he  continued,  in  a  lower 
tone — ''didn't  ycm  know  that  I'd  be  here?" 

'•Well,  I  should  have  felt  disappointed," 
said  Katie,  softly,  '•  if  you  had  not  been 
here." 

At  this  moment  Mrs.  Russell  *nriied,  and 
said,  sharply, 

"  Come,  Katie." 

"All  right,"  said  Ashby,  coolly ;  "Til  sec 
Miss  West\ot(jin  on  board  the  train."' 

Mrs.  Russell  looked  vexed. 

"  Katie,"  said  she,  "  I  wish  you  to  stay  liy 
mc." 

"Oh  yes,  auntie  dearest,"  said  Katie, with 
lierusual  self-possession;  "of  course  Ishall." 

But  she  made  not  the  slightest  move- 
ment to  leave  Ashby,  and  this  annoyed 
Mrs.  Russell  all  the  more.  She  looked  all 
around,  as  though  for  help.  The  Spaniard"s 
eyes  were  all  ablaze  with  wrath  and  jeal- 
ousy. 

"  Madame  Russell,"  said  he,  in  an  eager 
voice, "  commanda  me,  I  beg,  I  ^liall  help." 

These  words  were  plainly  audible  to 
Ashby,  who,  however,  only  smiled. 

"  Madanu\"  said  Lopez,  still  more  eager- 
ly, "commanda  me.  Shall  I  condut  the 
mees  V 

For  a  moment  5Irs.  Russell  seemed  in- 
clined to  accept  the  proil'ered  aid,  but  it 
was  only  for  a  moment.  The  good  lady 
was  timid.  She  dreaded  a  scene.  A  quar- 
rel in  so  public  a  place  between  these  two 
jealous  and  hot-headed  youths  would  be 
loo  terrible,  so  she  at  once  gave  way." 


"Oh  no,  no,"  she  said,  liurriedly. 
"Thanks,  Captain  Lopez,  I  think  I  shall 
ask  you  to  conduct  me  to  our  carriage. 
Mr.  Russell  will  be  with  us  immediately." 

Upon  this  Lopez  otVercd  his  arm,  which 
Mrs.  Russell  took,  and  they  both  went  oil". 
Ashby  i"()llowed  slowly  with  Katie. 

"Katie,"  said  he,  after  a  pause,  "I'm  go- 
ing too." 

"  W'haL  1"  said  Katie,  in  a  joyous  voice, 
"  in  this  train  ?" 

"  Yes,  along  with  you." 

"How  perfectly  lovely  I"'  said  Katie — 
which  expression  showed  that  these  two 
were  on  very  good  terms  with  one  another. 
•'But  then,  yon  know,""  she  resumed,  "Mr. 
Russell  has  the  carriage  for  us  only." 

"Oh,  well, it's  all  the  same,"  said  Ashby, 
"  I'm  going  on  in  the  same  train.  That 
will  be  hai)piness  enough.  But  see  here," 
he  added,  in  a  hurried  voice,  "  take  this  let- 
ter;" and  with  this  he  slipped  a  letter  into 
her  hand,  which  she  instantly  concealed  in 
her  pocket,  ''ril  see  you  to-night  at  Bur- 
gos," he  continued,  in  a  low  tone,  "  and 
then  at  Biarritz  or  Bayonne.  I  have  friends 
in  both  places.  You  must  do  what  I  ask 
you.  You  must  be  mine.  You  must,  dar- 
ling. Don't  mind  these  confounded  Riis- 
sells.  They're  nothing  to  you  compared 
with  me.  Russell  has  no  right  to  interfere. 
He's  not  your  uncle,  he's  only  a  miserable 
guardian;  and  he's  a  contemptible  scoun- 
drel too,  and  I  told  him  so  to  his  face,  lie's 
planning  to  get  you  to  marry  that  cad  of  a 
son  of  his.  But  read  my  letter.  .Make  up 
your  mind  to-day,  darling.  I'll  see  you  to- 
night at  Burgos." 

Ashby  jioured  forth  this  in  a  quiet,  low. 
earnest  voice  as  they  traversed  the  short 
space  that  lay  between  them  and  the  cars, 
while  Katie  listened  in  silence.  ISIeanwhilo 
the  others  had  reached  a  carriage,  which 
Mrs.  Russell  entered :  Lopez  immediately 
followed. 

"Oh,  look!"  cried  Katie;  "Captain  Lo- 
pez has  gone  into  our  carriage.  He  must 
be  going  to  travel  with  us." 

"The  infernal  sne.ak !"'  growled  Ashby. 
"  But  then,"'  he  continued,  "  what's  the  uh' 
of  that  ?  He  can't  go.  "Why,  old  Russell 
hates  him  worse  than  me." 

At  this  moment  Mrs.  Russell  put  forth 
her  head. 

"  Katie !"'   she   called,   in   a   thin,  shrill 
voice. 
"  Yes,  auntie  dear,"  said  Katie. 
"In  a  moment,"  chimed  in  Ashby. 


UULOUES. 


wiiHirfni 


A  CASTLE  IN  SPAIN. 


It 


"rcrlmps  I'll  better  Ro,"  said  Kiitie; 
•'slie's  so  liorrid,  you  know." 

"Tlien,"  saiil  Ashby, "  good-bye  for  the 
present,  my  own  diuiinrr." 

yiiying  this,  lie  took  lier  iu  liis  iirnis  and 
deUl)erately  kissed  her  two  or  three  times. 
Kiltie  tiien  darted  away  and  entered  the 
carriaj^e,  to  tind  Mrs.  Hussell  speechless 
■with  indijfnation. 

Tlie  moment  Katie  had  gone,  up  came 
Russell  in  a  fury. 

"Look  here,  sir  !"  iie  cried,  shaking  his 
fist  at  Ashby.  "I  say,  sir!  Look  here, 
Bir !     You  scoundrel  1    Didn't  I  toll  you—" 

'■And  look  lierc,  you  !"  said  Ashby,  in  a 
Btern  voice,  laying  his  iiand  heavily  on  the 
other's  shoulder,  "  none  of  thia  insolence, 
my  good  man,  or  I  shall  have  to  teach  you 
better  manners.  You  know  perfectly  well 
that  Katie  is  engaged  to  me,  and  that  I 
mean  to  make  her  my  wife." 

"Yon  shall  never!"  cried  Russell,  pas- 
sionately ;  "  never — never !" 

"Pooh!"  e.vclaimed  Ashby,  contemptu- 
ously. 

"  I'm  her  guardian,"  said  Russell. 

"  That  may  be,"  said  Ashl)y,  calmly, 
"  but  only  for  a  few  months  longer.  I  can 
■wait.     Don't  be  alarmed." 

"  You  shall  never  marry  her !"' 

•'  Pooh,  my  good  man  I  attend  to  your 
luggage." 

jNIuttering  inarticulate  threats,  mingled 
•with  curses,  Russell  now  stamped  otf,  and 
entered  the  carriage.  Here  he  found  Lopez. 
At  the  sight  of  this  man  his  fury  burst  all 
bounds.  AVith  Ashby  he  had  felt  under 
soma  restraint ;  but  with  Lopez  there  -was 
.nothing  of  the  kind,  and  ho  ordered  him 
lout  in  the  most  insulting  manner. 

Lopez,  however,  refused  to  stir,  telling 
i  him  that  Madame  Russell  had  given  him 
permission  to  remain. 

"  Madame  Russell  be  hanged  !"  roared 
the  other.  "  You  get  out  of  this,  or  else 
I'll  kick  you  out !" 

"  No,  senor,"  said  Lopez,  coolly,  '•  I  ad- 
visa  you  not  to  try  violencia." 

For  a  moment  Russell  measured  him 
from  head  to  foot;  but  the  sight  of  the 
sinewy  young  Spaniard  did  not  reassure 
him.  His  own  muscles  were  somewhat 
llaljl;y,  and  by  no  means  fit  for  a  struggle 
with  this  vigorous  youth. 

So  he  chose  another  and  a  safer  mode, 
lie  sprang  out  and  began  to  bawl  loudly 
for  the  guard.  But,  very  unfortunately,  Rus- 
sell could  not  speak  a  word  of  Spanish,  and 


when  the  guard  came  up  he  could  not  ex- 
plain himself.  And  so  Russell,  after  all. 
might  have  had  to  travel  with  his  unwel- 
come companion  had  not  an  unexpected 
ally  appeared  upon  the  scene.  This  was 
Ashby,  wiio  had  been  stantling  by,  and 
had  comprehended  the  whole  situation. 
Now  Ashby  could  speak  Spanish  like  a 
native. 

"  See  here,  Russell,"  said  he,  "  I  don't 
mind  giving  you  a  lift.     What's  the  row  ?" 

Russell  hesitated  for  a  moment,  Imt  his 
rage  against  Lopez  had  (piite  swallowed  up 
his  auger  at  Ashley,  and  he  acccpteil  the 
aid  of  tlie  latter.  So  he  went  on  to  ex- 
plain wiiat  Ashby  very  well  knew— ihe  sit- 
uation in  the  carriage.  Ashby  thereupou 
ex))lained  to  the  guard.  The  guard  then 
ordered  Lopez  out.  At  which  sununons 
the  gallant  captain  thought  fit  to  beat  a 
retreat,  wiiich  he  ellecteil  in  good  order, 
drums  i)eating  and  colors  Hying,  and  with 
many  expressions  of  polite  regret  to  the  la- 
dies and  many  wishes  for  a  ideasant  jour- 
ney. 

Arriving  outside,  however,  our  noble  hi- 
dalgo found  tlie  blast  of  war  blowing,  and 
so  he  at  once  proceeded  to  stitVen  his  sin- 
ews and  summon  up  liis  blood.  Taking 
no  notice  of  Russell,  he  advanced  to  Ashby. 

"Senor,"  said  he,  in  Spanish,  "for  the 
])art  that  you  have  taken  in  this  matter  I 
will  call  you  to  account." 

Ashby  smiled  disdainfully. 

"You  have  insulted  'nf,"  said  Lopez, 
fiercely.  "  This  insult  must  be  washed  out 
in  blood — your  licart's-blood  or  mine.  I 
am  going  in  this  train." 

"  Indeed  !     So  am  I,"  said  Ashby. 

"  We  shall  find  a  ])lacc — and  a  time." 

"Whenever  you  please,''  said  the  other, 
shortl}'. 

"  Senor,  I  will  communicate  with  you." 

Both  the  young  men  bowed,  and  wiui 
their  hearts  full  of  hate  tlicy  separated  to 
take  their  places  in  the  train. 

And  now  at  this  particular  juncture  there 
came  forth  from  behind  a  pillar  a  female 
figure,  which  figure  had  been  there  for 
some  time,  and  Jiad  closely  Avatched  the 
whole  of  Ashby's  proceedings  from  begin- 
ning to  end.  It  was  impossible  to  see  her 
face,  but  her  graceful  shape,  and  quiet,  ac- 
tive movements,  indicated  youth,  and  sug- 
gested possible  beauty.  This  figure  hast- 
ened toward  the  train,  and  entered  the  very 
carriage  into  which  Ashby  had  gone. 

The  next  moment  the  guard  banged  the 


H 


12 


LVSTLE  IN  SPAIN. 


\loor  to  beliind  her,  tliu  pvciit  i),..  .111.,:^,  tho 
engine  pufVcd  and  snorted,  iumI  then,  witli 
the  ronr  of  steam,  tlie  clunk  of  niueliinery, 
and  tli(^  ninildt!  of  many  wheels,  the  lont; 
train  thinulered  out  of  tlio  station  on  its 
eventful  journey  to  tlie  North. 


ClIAPTEll  II. 

now    Mil,    ASiniY    MKKTS    WMII    A    VKIIY    DEAK    A.M) 
VKUY   LOVKLY   YOUNU   FIlIliM). 

On  entering  the  cnrringc  Ashl)y  took  a 
scat  anil  prepared  to  niai<e  himself  ccjnifort- 
al)lc  for  the  journey.  The  imrriud  events 
of  the  last  few  minutes,  the  farewell  to  Ka- 
tie, the  prospect  of  a  new  meeting  at  Bur- 
gos, the  additional  prospect  of  a  hostile 
encounter  with  Lopez,  were  certainly  suffi- 
cient food  for  reflection.  Consequently  he 
was  in  a  fit  of  abstraction  so  profound  tliat 
lie  did  not  notice  the  female  who  entered 
the  carriage. 

As  the  train  rolled  out,  the  new-comer 
also  made  herself  comf(  nable  in  her  seat, 
which,  being  opposite  to  that  of  Ashby, 
gave  her  the  opjiortunity  of  examining  his 
face  at  her  leisure,  if  she  felt  so  inclined, 
while  she  herself  was  so  closely  veiled  as 
to  battle  recognition.  Her  dress,  though 
very  plain,  was  in  the  latest  fashion,  and 
she  wore  with  inimitable  grace  that  mar- 
vellous Spanish  mantilla  which  is  equally 
adapted  to  adorn  and  to  conceal.  Al- 
though in  the  opposite  scat,  she  was  not 
dose  to  Ashby,  but  at  the  other  end  of  the 
carriage,  in  which  position  she  could  watch 
him  the  more  easilj'.  These  two  were  the 
only  occupants. 

Once  or  twice  Ashby's  eyes  fell  on  her 
as  he  raised  his  head  or  changed  his  posi- 
tion; but  he  paid  no  attention  to  her,  nor 
did  he  even  seem  aware  of  her  existence ; 
while  she  sat  veiled,  so  that  the  direction 
of  her  glance  could  not  be  seen. 

For  about  half  an  hour  the  situation  re- 
mained unaltered,  and  then  at  the  end  of 
that  time  the  lady  made  a  readjustment  of 
her  mantilla,  which  exposed  all  her  head 
and  face.  The  hands  which  were  raised  to 
perform  this  act  were  soft,  round,  plump, 
and  dimpled,  and  might  of  themselves  have 
attracted  the  admiration  of  one  less  preoc- 
cupied than  Ashby ;  while  the  face  that  was 
now  revealed  was  one  which  might  ha\c 
roused  the  dullest  of  mortals.  It  was  a 
dark  olive  face,  with  features  of  exquisite 
delicacy ;  the  eyes  were  large,  lustrous,  and 


melting,  fringed  with  long  lashes;  the  eye 
brows  delicately  pencilled;  the  hair  rich 
black,  glossy,  and  waving  in  innumerable 
ripples.  Her  cheeks  were  dimpled,  and 
her  lips  were  curveil  into  a  faint  smile  as 
she  sat  with  a  demure  face  and  wafehed 
Ashby.  It  may  have  been  a  certain  mes- 
merism in  her  gaze,  or  it  .  ^ay  only  have 
been  that  Ashby  had  at  last  grown  weary 
of  his  own  thoughts,  for  suddenly  he  look- 
ed up,  and  caught  her  eyes  fixed  thus  on 
him.  For  a  moment  an  expression  of  as- 
tonishment filled  his  face;  then  the  smile 
of  til"  lady  deepened,  and  her  eyes  fell. 

At  this  Ashby  jumped  from  his  seat. 

"By  heavens!"  he  exclaimed.  "Dolo- 
res!   Oh,  Dolores!" 

He  uttered  these  words  with  a  htrango 
intonation,  yet  there  was  joy  in  his  eyes 
and  in  the  tone  of  his  voice,  together  with 
the  wonder  that  had  been  at  lirst  display- 
ed. As  he  spoke  he  seized  her  hand  in 
both  of  his,  and,  holding  it  fast,  seated 
himself  in  the  place  immediately  opposite.- 
After  a  moment  Dolores  drew  away  her 
hand  with  a  light  laugh. 

"Ah,  senor,"  said  she,  "  you  do  not  seem 
veiy  quick  at  recognizing  your  old  ac- 
quaintances." 

She  spoke  with  the  purest  Castilian  ac- 
cent, and  the  rich  and  mellow  tones  of  her 
voice  were  inex])ressibly  sweet. 

"I — I — had  no  idea — no  idea  that  you 
were  anywlierc  near.  You  were  the  last, 
the  very  last  person  that  I  could  have  ex- 
pected to  see.  How  could  I  expect  to  sec 
you  here,  Dolores  ?  I  thought  that  you 
were  still  at  Valencia.    And  are  you  alone  ?" 

"  Yes — ^just  now — from  here  to  Burgos. 
I  am  on  my  way  to  visit  my  aunt  at  Pam- 
pcluna.  She  is  ill.  Mamma  could  not 
come  with  me,  for  she  is  ill  too.  So  I  have 
to  travel  alone.  The  good  Tilda  came  witli 
m«  to  IMadrid,  but  had  to  return  to  mam- 
ma. There  was  no  time  to  seek  another 
companion.  Besides,  it  is  only  from  here 
to  Burgos." 

"  Oh,  Dolores,  little  Dolores  I"  cried  Ash- 
by, "  how  delightful  it  is  to  see  you  again ! 
What  a  lucky  chance !" 

"  But  it  was  not  altogether  chance,"  said 
Dolores. 

"How?" 

"  Why,  I  saw  you.  , 

"  Saw  me  ?" 

"Yes;  I  was  watching  you.  You  see,  I 
was  in  the  station  waiting  for  the  train,  and 
saw  you  come  in.    I  then  watched  you  all 


A  CASTLE  IN  SPAIN. 


13 


the  time  till  you  entered  this  cnriingc,  unil 
then  I  came  hero  too.    Now,  sir !" 

Siiyiiifi  this,  Dolores  tossed  her  pretty 
little  head  with  iv  triiimiihant  air,  and 
Bmih'd  more  l)ewiteliiii,uly  than  ever. 

"You  see,"  she  continued,  in  the  frank- 
est and  most  engagin;,'  manner,  "I  was  so 
veiled  that  no  one  eou'd  know  me,  and 
when  I  saw  you  I  was  ,  ■  \j  f,dad  indeed  ; 
and  I  thought  I  would  follow  you,  and 
speak  to  yui!,  and  see  if  you  had  any  re- 
membrance left  of  poor  little  me." 

For  a  moment  there  was  a  shade  of  cm- 
barrasHment  on  Ashhy's  face,  and  then  it 
passed.  lie  took  her  hand  and  pressed  it 
fervently. 

"  Dolores,"  he  said—"  dear  little  friend  of 
mine,  I  can  never  forj^ct  you  as  long  as  I 
live,  and  all  tliat  was  done  for  me  hy  you 
nnci  yours.  This  sudden  meeting  with  you 
is  the  most  delightful  thing  that  could  pos- 
sibly have  happened." 

Dolores  laughed,  and  again  drew  her 
hand  demurely  away. 

"IJut  oil,  Scnor  Ashby,"  she  said, "how 
absent  you  were  in  the  station ! — and  here 
— not  one  look  for  the  poor  Dolores !" 

"  Oh,  Dolores'."'  said  Ashby,  in  a  tone  of 
tender  apology,  "  how  could  I  imagine  that 
it  was  you  ?  You  were  veiled  so  closely 
that  no  one  could  recognize  you.  Why 
did  you  not  speak  before  ?" 

"Ah,senor,  young  ladies  in  Spain  cannot 
bo  so  bold  as  I  hear  they  are  in  England. 
Even  this  is  an  unheard-of  adventure — that 
I,  a  young  lady,  should  travel  alone.  But 
it  is  a  case  of  life  and  death,  you  know, 
and  it  is  only  from  here  to  Burgos,  where 
I  shall  find  friends.  And  then  I  wanted  to 
sjieak  to  you  once  more.  And  you,  seiior 
— are  you  going  to  England  now  V^ 

Again  there  came  over  Ashby's  face  a 
look  of  embarrassment.  His  present  jour- 
ney was  a  delicate  subject,  which  he  could 
not  discuss  very  well  with  Dolores. 

"  Well,  no,"  he  said,  after  a  brief  pause. 
"I'm  only  going  as  far  as  Bayonne  —  on 
business.  But  how  long  it  seems  since  I 
saw  you,  Dolores !    It's  more  than  a  year." 

"And  have  I  changed,  seiior?"  she  ask- 
ed, sweetly. 

"  Yes,"  said  Ashbj%  looking  at  her  in- 
tently. 

Dolores  returned  his  look  with  another, 
the  intensity  of  which  was  wonderful  to 
Ashby.  lie  seemed  to  look  into  the  depths 
of  her  soul,  and  the  lustrous  eyes  which 
were  fastened  on  his  appeared  as  though 


they  strove  to  rcaci  his  inmost  heart.  Her 
manner,  however,  was  light  and  bantering, 
and  it  was  with  a  merry  Bmilo  that  sbo 
went  on : 

"Ah!  so  I  have  changed?  And  how, 
sefior — for  the  better?" 

"Xo,  and  yes,"  said  Ashby,  drinking  in 
her  dark,  deep,  li(|uid  glances.  "  In  the 
first  place,  you  could  not  po.ssibly  bo  bet- 
ter or  more  beautiful  than  you  used  to  be; 
but,  in  the  second  place,  you  are  more  wom- 
anly." 

"  But  I  am  iu)t  yet  seventeen,  senor." 

"  I  know,"  said  Ashby,  of  course. 

"And  you  have  not  yet  asked  after  the 
dear  one — the  mamma,  who  loves  you  so," 
said  Dolores,  in  rather  an  inconsequential 
way. 

"I  was  thinking  of  you,  so  that  all  other 
thoughts  were  driven  out  of  my  liead." 

"That's  pretty,"  said  Dolores;  "but  do 
you  not  want  to  hear  about  the  tlear  nuun- 
ma  ?'' 

"Of  course.  I  shall  love  her  and  revere 
her  till  I  die.  Did  she  not  save  my  life  i 
Was  she  not  a  mother  to  mo  in  my  sorest 
need  ?     And  you,  Dolores — " 

He  stopped  short, '\nd  seemed  somewhat 
confused  and  agitated. 

"Yes,"  said  Dolores,  in  a  tone  of  inde- 
scribable tenderness ;  "  yes,  she  loved  you — 
the  dear  manuna — like  a  mother,  and  has 
always  talked  about  you.  It  is  always, 
Dolores,  child,  sing  that  song  that  Senor 
Assebi  taught  you;  sing  that  beautiful, 
beautiful  English  song  of 'Sweet  Home;' 
sing  that  sweetest,  loveliest,  most  mourn- 
ful Scottish  song  of '  Lochaber.' " 

And  here,  in  a  voice  full  of  exquisite 
tenderness  and  pathos,  Dolores  sang  that 
mournful  air,  "Lochal)er,"  with  Sjjanish 
Avord:j.  The  tender  regret  of  her  voice  af- 
fected herself;  she  faltered,  and  lier  eyes 
filled ;  iKit  the  tears  were  instantly  chased 
away  by  a  sunny  smile. 

"And  so,  senor,"  .said  she,  "you  see  that 
I  have  forgotten  nothing  of  it — nothing." 

"Nor  I,"  said  Asldiy;  "nor  I— nothing. 
I  have  forgotten  not  one  thing." 

His  voice  was  low  and  tremulous.  There 
was  a  strange,  yearning  look  in  his  eyes. 
With  a  sudden  impulse  he  held  out  his 
hand,  as  though  to  take  hers,  but  Dolores 
gently  drew  hers  awaj'. 

"And  have  you  been  in  Madrid  ever 
since  ?"  she  asked,  in  a  tone  that  seemed  to 
convey  something  of  reproach. 

"  No,"  said  Ashby.    "  You  know,  when  I 


14 


A  CASTLE  IN  SPAIN. 


fell  ill  at  Valencia,  where  you  saved  my  life 
by  your  tender  care,  I  was  on  uiy  way  to 
Barcelona.  Wlieu  I  loft  you  I  resumed  my 
interrupted  journey.  Tlicn  I  went  to  Mar- 
seilles and  Leghorn,  then  to  Cadiz,  and  final- 
ly to  Madrid.  I've  been  in  JIadrid  three 
months." 

"And  you  didn't  think  it  worth  Avhilc 
to  write  to  us  in  all  that  loui,^  time?"'  said 
Dolores,  willi  a  reproachfiilness  in  her  tone 
which  was  now  very  marked. 

"Wi'te?"'  said  Ashl)y;  '•  why.  I  wrote 
twice — once  from  Marseilles,  and  once  from 
Leghorn." 

"  We  never  heard,"  said  Dolores,  sadly, 
"not  once." 

"But  I  wrote,"  said  Ashby,  earnestly. 
"  Don'c  you  believe  mc,  Dolores  V 

"  Believe  you,  senor  ?  What  a  question ! 
It  was  tlic  fault  of  the  post-oilice  in  these 
times  of  trouble — that  was  all.  And,  senor, 
I  am  very  glad  to  know  all,  for  I  did  not 
know  what  to  think  about  it." 

"And  am  I  forgiven,  Dolores?"  Ashby 
asi  id. 

Dolores  replied  with  a  sweet  smile,  and 
held  out  her  hand,which  t  lie  young  man  took 
and  pressed  tenderly,  not  caring  to  let  it  go. 

"  I  did  not  know,"  said  he,  "  there  was 
anything  against  me  to  l)e  forgiven ;  but 
this  is  a  sigu  that  you  are  the  same  Do- 
lores 'hat  you  were  a  year  ago." 

"Always,"  said  she,  "always  the  same;" 
and  then  she  withdrew  her  hand. 

"And  now,  senor,"  said  she,  with  a  pcr- 
ceptii)le  effort,  as  of  one  who  a])proaches  a 
disagreeable  subject,  "  this  Ijcautifiil  luglcsa 
— who  is  she  ?" 

Ashby's  eyes  fell  before  the  fixed  and 
profound  inquiry  of  those  of  Dolores's,  v  no 
watched  him  close,  and  lost  nothing  of  his 
change  of  features. 

"This  ludy  ?''  said  he,  and  hesitated. 

"  Yes,"  said  Dolores,  gently. 

"  She  is  a — a — SIl^s  Westlotorn." 

"  And  she  loves  you  very,  very,  very  dear- 
ly and  tenderly,"  said  Dolores,  in  a  quick, 
breathless  voice;  "and  you  are  going  to 
be  married  to  her,  and  she  will  soon  be 
your  wife." 

Ashby  said  nothing,  ])ut  sat  looking 
strangely  embarrassed. 

"You  never  laentioned  her  to  us  at  Va- 
lencia," continued  Dolores. 

"  No,"  said  Ashby. 

"And  why  not  ?"  asked  Dolores,  who  saw 
his  confusion,  but  was  eager  to  know  the 
truth. 


"  I  had  not  seen  her,"  ?«aid  Ashby. 

"You  had  not  ?pju  her,"  repeated  Do- 
lores. "Ah  !" — she  hesitated  for  a  moment 
and  then  went  on — "  so  you  saw  her  alter- 
Avard.     And  she  loves  you  !" 

These  last  worcls  were  spoken  with  in- 
describable tenderness  and  mournfulness. 
"And — she— loves — you,"  she  repeated,  in 
a  voice  that  had  sunk  almost  to  a  whisper ; 
'•  and  she  is  to  be  your  wife — the  English 
girl !" 

"  Well,"  said  Ashby,  making  an  efi"ort  to 
overcome  his  embarrassment,  "  il,  is — it  is 
about  time.  The  fact  is,  I — I.  did  ask  lier 
to — to  be  my  wife." 

"And  she'?" 

"She?  Well — slie  said  she  would,  I 
think,"  said  Ashby,  evasively. 

"You  think  I''  exclaimed  Dolores. 

"  AVell,y(Hi  .see,  there's  a  diflieulty.''' 

"Adiliieulty?" 

"  Yes.     Her  guardian  will  not  eousent." 

"  But  that  is  nothing,"  said  Dolores,  in 
an  animated  tone.  "  You  nuist  take  her, 
and  run  away  with  her." 

Ashby  looked  at  Dolores  with  a  strange, 
eager,  hungry  gaze. 

"But  there's  another  objection,"  said  he. 

"Objection?     What  is  tiiat?" 

"  I  don't  want  to." 

"  What  ?"  asked  Dolores,  in  suri)rise. 

Ashby  hesitated  for  a  moment,  and  then 
said,  with  an  eilbrt, 

"  I  thought  before  we  left  that  I  loved 
her;  but  since  I  have  seeu  you  again  —  I 
feel— that  I  do  not." 

Tliese  words  were  spoken  rai)idly,  in  a 
low,  feverish  whisper.  At  first  Doloros 
started,  as  though  she  had  been  shot. 
Then  she  averted  her  face,  and  held  up 
her  hands  depreeatingly. 

"Ah,"  said  she,  in  a  sad  voice,  "that  is 
all  idle,  idle,  idle,  foolish,  foolish,  foolish 
compliment,  and  nothing  more.  You  nuist 
not  say  that  again,  or  I  will  never  forgive 
you — never,  never !" 

At  this  Ashl)y  was  brought  back  to  his 
senses  with  a  sudden  and  wholesome  shock, 
and  said  no  more  upon  tiiat  point.  In  fact, 
he  now  felt  afraid  that  he  had  said  alto- 
gether too  mucii. 


i 


A  CAS'VT.E  IN  SPAIN. 


15 


CHAPTER  III. 


now  ASlir.Y  MKKTS  WITH  AXOTIIKK  KUir.XP.  AND  HOW 
HK  TAKKS  HIM  INTO  IHd  COSUDKNCK. 

Tfiat  evening  they  arrived  at  Burgos, 
Where,  on  account  of  troubles  along  the 
line,  the  train  was  to  remain  until  ten 
o'clock  on  the  loUowing  day.  Dolores  in- 
formed Ashhy  that  she  was  going  to  stay 
with  friends,  and  refused  to  allow  him  to 
accompany  her  to  the  house,  in  spite  of  his 
earnest  entreaties.  She  had  been  in  TJurgos 
before,  siic  said.  The  house  vas  not  far 
from  the  station,  and  she  was  firm  in  her 
resolve  to  go  alone.  Ashby  followed  her, 
however,  and  saw  her  pass  in  safety  through 
the  streets  and  into  a  large  and  vcneroole 
house  not  far  from  tlie  Cathedral.  Ho  then 
retraced  his  steps,  and  made  the  best  of  liis 
way  to  the  Fonda  del  Norte,  where  he  put 
up  for  the  niglit. 

Here,  after  dinner,  he  loitered  about  for 
a  time,  meditating  over  the  events  of  the 
day,  and  conjecturing  aI)out  tlie  morrow. 
His  situation  was  growing  somewhat  com- 
plicated ;  for  there  was  Katie,  whom  he  had 
promised  to  see  at  Burgos ;  but  on  leaving 
the  train  he  had  followed  Dolores,  and  now 
he  had  not  the  faintest  idea  where  the  Kus- 
sells  had  gone.  They  were  not  at  the  Fon- 
da del  Norte.  It  was  also  too  late  now  to 
hunt  tliem  up,  and  too  late  to  hope  to  sec 
Katie.  Tiiat  must  be  postponed  till  tlie 
morrow. 

Ashliy  was  Ijcginning  to  feel  more  mel- 
ancholy than  ever. in  his  life  before,  when 
suddenly  he  was  roused  by  a  loud  excla- 
mation. 

'•  Well,  by  Jove  !  Halloo,  old  boy  !  Ash- 
by  himself,  by  all  that's  wonderful  I" 

At  this  Ashhy  looked  up.  and  the  next 
instant  he  was  heartily  wringing  the  hand 
of  the  new-comer. 

"Rivers!  Harry  Rivers  !  How  arc  you, 
jny  boy?  and  where  in  the  world  did  you 
come  from  V 

"  By  Jove !  do  you  know,  old  fellow," 
said  Harry  Rivers,  ''I  call  this  no  cud  of  a 
piece  of  good  luck?  I've  been  bored  to 
death  at  Burgos.  But  come  along  to  my 
rooms  and  give  an  account  of  yourself" 

The  two  friends  then  went  otT,  and  soon 
were  comfortably  seated  in  the  rooms  of 
Harry  Rivers,  with  some  flasks  of  wine 
and  Havanas  to  heli)  along  the  evening 
hours. 

Harry  Rivers  was  of  about  the  same  ago 
ns  Aslibv,  but  totally  different  in  appear- 
2 


ancc.  He  was  of  medium  height,  very  well 
knit  in  his  frame,  and  very  well  dressed. 
His  hair  was  crisp  and  curling;  liis  brow 
broad  and  open;  his  eyes  full  of  light,  and 
life,  and  volatility.  He  had  a  small  mu.s- 
tache,  but  no  beard  or  whiskers,  and  his 
laughing  eyes,  with  his  smooth  face  and 
winning  smile,  gave  him  a  most  engaging 
appearance.  In  short,  Harry  Rivers  was 
one  of  those  rare  good  fellows  who  make 
friends  wherever  they  go;  who  take  the 
world  into  th'ir  conlidence  ;  who  ir.sist  on 
making  every  one  familiar  with  tli.ir  vary- 
ing fortunes;  and  carry  about  with  them 
a  peri^etual  atmosphere  of  joyousness  and 
breezy  cheerfulness. 

"  Well,  old  chap,"  said  Harry,  as  they  sat 
enjoying  their  cigars  and  wine,  "  I  haven't 
seen  you  or  heard  of  you  since  you  left  Bar- 
celona. How  did  you  get  on  with  your 
Ijusiness  in  Italy?  "What  maile  you  turn 
up  in  this  (pieer  way  at  Burgos  ?  This  isn't 
the  sort  of  place  that  I'd  expect  to  find  a 
friend  in." 

"I'm  on  my  way  to  Bayonne  just  now," 
said  Asnby,  "  and  I  stoppetl  here — because 
the  train  stojiped.'' 

"  Bayonne  isn't  a  bad  j)lace,''  said  Harry; 
"  I  spent  a  week  there  once — good  wine, 
but  batl  tobacco  and  infernal  cigars.  Here 
we  have  good  cigars  and  bad  wine.  Do 
you  know,  old  chap,  I  don't  dote  on  any 
of  the  Spanish  wines — do  you?  At  the 
same  time,  I  drink  your  very  good  health, 
together  with  future  i)rosperity  and  good 
luck  in  your  present  undertaking,  what- 
ever that  may  be." 

"  Thanks,"  said  Ashby,  "and  tin.'  same  to 
you." 

"Look  liere,  old  chap,"  said  Harry,  "you 
look  a  little  down  in  the  mouth— a  trifle- 
seedy.     No  bad  luck,  I  hope  ?" 

"Oh  no,"  said  Ashby,  "nothing  in  par- 
ticular." 

"  Tlij  fact  is,  you  seem  to  have  lost  your 
high  moral  tone,  and  your  former  happy 
flow  of  genial  conversation.  I  don't  want 
to  be  a  Paul  Pry,  my  dear  boy ;  but  if  you 
wish  to  gain  sympathy  and  find  a  friend 
who  can  hear  and  help,  why,  all  I  can  say 
is — here  you  have  him." 

"Well,"  said  Ashby,  "I'm  a  little  preoc- 
cupied, that's  a  fact." 

"  Preoccupied  ?  That's  your  name  for  it, 
is  it?  Well,  suppose  we  adopt  that  word 
—what  then?" 

Ashby  knockeil  the  ashes  ofl"  his  cigar 
with  a  reflective  look,  and  said, 


i 


16 


A  CASTLE  IN  SPAIN. 


"  I  rather  tliink,  Harry,  that  I  luid  better 
make  you  my  father-conl'essor." 

"All  riyht,"  said  Uarry;  "tliai's  what  I 
•was  made  for.  Go  ahead,  my  son.  Con- 
fess— out  with  it.  Cleanse  your  bosom  of 
its  perilous  "tuft":  make  ix  clean  breast  of  it." 

'•  Well,"  said  Asliby,  "  in  the  first  place, 
I'm  just  now  meditating  matrimony." 

"  Matrimony !" 

"Yes;  l)ut  that's  not  all.  It's  a  sort  of 
runaway  match." 

"A  runaway  match!  By  Jove!  Only 
think  of  u  fellow  like  you  planning  a  run- 
away match  !  Now  if  it  was  me,  it  would 
be  tlie  proper  thing.  But  is  it  really  to  be 
a  runaway  matcirs!" 

"  Well,  it  amounts  to  that,  for  I've  asked 
the  girl  to  clear  out  from  her  friends  and 
come  with  me." 

"Well,  old  fellow,  all  I  can  say  is,  good 
luck  to  you  both.  And  please,  mayn't  I  be 
the  best  man?"  he  added,  with  a  droll  ac- 
cent that  brought  an  involuntary  smile  to 
Ashby's  face.  "  But  go  on.  Who  is  the 
charmer  ?  and  Avliere  is  she  now  V 

"  Well,  to  answer  your  last  question  first, 
she's  here— in  Burgos." 

"Ah,"  said  Harry,  "  I  twig !  Came  on  in 
the  same  train.  Both  planned  it  together. 
You  cut  across  the  border,  and  are  made 
one.     Why,  it's  like  Gretna  Green  !" 

"  Well,  you've  hit  it  partly,  only  she's 
with  her  friends  just  now — that  is  to  say, 
she's  with  her  guardian  and  his  wife ;  and 
the  proljlem  to  be  solved  by  me  is,  how  I 
am  to  g-^t  her  from  those  two  dragons." 

•'  Oh,  that  ca.i  be  done.  But  now,  my 
boy,  to  come  to  the  point,  wlio  is  she  ? — lier 
name  ?'' 

"  Her  name,"  said  Ashby,  "  is  Westlo- 
torn — Katie  AVestlotorn." 

"  AVestlotorn,"  repeated  Harry:  '-'never 
saw  her,  and  don't  think  I  ever  heard  the 
name  in  all  my  life." 

"I  got  acquainted  with  lier  at  Cadiz  a 
few  months  ago,"  said  Ashby.  "Her  fa- 
ther had  Ijeen  a  merchant  there,  and  had 
died  aljoiit  a  year  before.  She  was  there 
with  her  step-mother,  who  took  no  particu- 
lar care  of  her — a  miserable  beast  of  a  wom- 
an. She  was  in  correspondence  with  her 
sister  in  England,  a  Mrs.  Russell,  whom  she 
kept  urging  to  come  on  and  take  Katie 
away  Irom  Spain.  This  Mrs.  Westlotorn 
had  induced  her  husband  beibre  his  death 
to  ai)i)oint  Russell,  her  sister'.s  husband, 
Katie's  guardian,  and  it  was  this  Russell 
and  his  wife  whom  she  expected  on,  but 


they  could  not  get  awny  very  easily.  Af- 
ter a  time  Jlrs.  Westlotorn  decided  to  move 
to  ]VIadrid,  which  she  thought  would  bo 
a  pleasanter  residence.  So  about  three 
months  ago  she  made  the  move,  and  after 
that  Katie  and  I  saw  as  much  of  one  an- 
other as  we  wished,  and  she  became  regu- 
larly engaged  to  me." 

"  So  the  step-mother  approved,  did  she  ?"' 

"Oh,  altogether!"' 

"  Well,  what's  the  trouble?" 

"Oh,  this  infernal  Russell,  tl;e  guardian, 
you  know  !  As  soon  as  he  came  on,  he  ami 
his  wife  began  to  make  trouble,  and  tried 
to  break  up  the  engagement;  they  also 
tried  to  keep  me  away  from  the  house. 
Tlien  there  was  another  ditliculty  :  they  al- 
lowed some  Spanish  blackguards  to  get 
acquainted  with  them.  ]\Irs.  Westlotorn, 
the  widow,  you  know,  is  hot-and-heavy  in 
the  chase  of  a  husliand,and  I'lought  tli;u 
all  the  young  fellows  v.ho  came  after  Katie 
were  after  her.  The  worst  of  them  was  a 
chap  named  Lopez,  wlio  calls  himself  a 
captain  in  the  Spanish  army — a  poor,  piti- 
ful beggar  whom  I  shall  have  to  horsewhip. 
And,  by-the-bye,  that  reuunds  me— I  expect 
to  be  called  out  to-morrow  or  next  day." 

"  Called  out  ?  how  ?" 

"  Oh,  by  this  pitiful  fellow  Lopez ;"  and 
Ashby  related  the  incident  at  the  jMadrid 
station, 

"By  .love  I"'  said  Harry,  "this  is  lucky, 
I'm  glad  I  came  upon  you  at  such  a  time. 
You  won't  have  to  trust  to  a  bungling 
Spaniard  to  be  your  second." 

"The  worst  of  it  is,"  said  Ashl)y,  "  I  be- 
lieve that  this  Ru.ssell  is  one  of  the  most 
infernal  villains  that  ever  lived,  and  that  In 
is  concocting  some  scheme  against  Katie." 

"  A  scheme  I  how  ?" 

"  W\'ll,  I'll  tell  you.  I  saw  from  the  first 
that  he  was  hostile  to  me.  Possibly  tiii,- 
may  have  been  my  own  fault,  for  I  saw  the 
fellow  was  a  beastly  cad,  not  at  all  fit  to 
be  Katie's  guardian.  Wiiy,  he's  a  tailor! 
think  of  that — a  tailor!  that's  all  he  is. 
By  Jove  !  only  think — a  tailor !  and  Katie's 
guardian  !  Do  you  suppose  I  was  going  to 
stand  any  nonsense  from  a  tailor?" 

"  By  Jove !  no — not  unless  you're  deep 
in  his  books,"  said  Harry ;  "  and  even  then, 
when  you're  away  from  home  you  ought  to 
be  a  free  man.  So  you  rather  slighted  tin' 
guardian,  did  j'ou  ?" 

"Well,  I  told  him  to  go  to  the  devil; 
and  the  fellow  took  otfence,  you  know." 

"Il'm  —  odd,  too,"  said  Harry.     "  W!iy 


A  CASTLE  IN  SPAIX. 


17 


slioiild  be  take  offence  at  such  a  simple  re- 
mark ?" 

"Don't  know,  I'm  sure,"  said  Ashliy; 
"but  there  it  is,:  "  see.  However,  that 
makes  no  diHerence.  I've  delied  him  and 
threatened  him." 

"Tlireatened!    Why?" 

"Why,  because  the  infernal  tcoundrcl  is 
deep  in  some  plan  to  get  hold  of  Katie's 
money." 

"  Katie's  money  ?  Oh,  she  has  money, 
then  ?" 

"  Of  course— about  thirty  or  forty  thou- 
sand pounds.  ]\Iost  of  this,  I  believe,  is  in 
Spanish  bonds,  in  which  Westlotorn  was 
foolish  cnougli  to  invest." 

"  Not  very  good  just  now,  hey  ?" 

"  Oil,  they'll  be  good  ultimatel)-.  At  any 
rate,  old  Russell's  bound  to  get  hold  of  all 
this  and  keep  it  for  himself,  and  I'm  re- 
solved that  he  shall  disgorge.  He's  got 
half  a  dozen  plans.  One  plan  is  to  try  to 
get  her  to  m.'irry  his  son,  an  infernal  red- 
headed, cock-eyed  cad  of  a  fullow — a  tail- 
or too.  Another  plan  is  to  put  her  off  in 
some  out-of-the-way  place  here  in  Spain, 
where  no  one  will  ever  hear  of  her.  An- 
other plan  is  to  ship  her  off  to  America ; 
another  is  to  keep  her  in  seclusion  in  his 
own  home,  ■where  no  one  ■will  ever  sec  her; 
•while  another  is  to  disi)osc  of  the  Spanish 
bonds  in  such  a  ■vway  as  to  make  it  appear 
that  they  arc  a  dead  loss," 

"You  seem  to  be  very  deep  in  Russell's 
plans,"  said  Harry.  "  He  could  not  have 
told  you  all  this  himself  If  he  did,  he 
must  be  of  an  uncommonly  confiding  dis- 
position." 

"He  tell  me!"  said  Ashby.  "  Of  course 
he  didn't.  I  found  it  all  out — no  matter 
how.  Oil,  the  fellow's  a  desj)erate  swin- 
dler—he'll stick  at  nothing.  But,  at  any 
rate,  he  knows  that  I  have  my  eye  on  him, 
aad  he'll  hardly  dure  to  do  anything  against 
I^tie's  interest  so  long  as  I  am  near  enough 
to  watch  over  her." 

"You  and  Russell  must  have  had  rather 
interesting  conversations.  Did  you  ever 
tell  him  your  suspicions?" 

"They're  not  suspicions,  they're  facts. 
Tell  hiin— of  course  I  did,  and  that's  one 
reason  why  lie  hates  me.  He  knows  per- 
fectly well  that  I  see  through  and  through 
hJni.  We  had  a  row  at  the  station,  just  be- 
fcre  leaving  Madrid,  because  I  came  down 
to  SCO  Katie  off;  and  he's  now  on  the  watch 
to  prevent  me  from  seeing  her  again." 

'•And  what  do  you  propose  to  do  about  it?" 


"  Oh,  I've  arranged  it  all.  I'll  tell  you. 
I  wrote  a  letter,  and  handed  it  to  her  just 
as  we  were  leaving  JMadrid,  asking  her  to 
meet  n»e  at  Biarritz,  naming  a  place.  I 
have  friends  there,  and  I  will  take  her  to 
their  house.  The  English  chaplain  can 
marry  us.  We  will  then  cut  otf  to  Eng- 
land. On  the  arrival  ot  Russell  I  will  go 
to  him  and  demand  my  wife's  ])roperty. 
If  he  reiuses  to  disgorge  I  will  at  once 
coinmcnce  legal  proceedings  against  him, 
and  by  way  of  preliminary  I  will  give  the 
scoundrel  a  horsewhipping." 

"This  arrangement  is  all  very  well;  but 
Avhat  about  the  lady?    Will  she  consent?" 

"Consent?  Why,  she'll  jump  at  th'^ 
chance,"  said  Ashby,  confidently. 

"  She  must  be  very  fond  of  you." 

"Fonel  of  me?  Why,  she's  perfectly  in- 
fatuated about  me." 

"Good!"'  said  Harry.  "Well,  my  boy, 
I'm  your  man.  You  want  me  fur  war  and 
for  peace,  so  here  am  I — your  second  at  the 
duel  and  your  groomsman  at  the  wedding." 


CHAPTER  IV. 

now  THE    liAILWAY  TRAIN   COMES  TO  A    SL'DDEN 
STOP. 

Veu'v  early  on  the  following  morning 
Ashby  was  up  and  out.  He  walked  over 
the  town  in  all  directions,  with  a  strange, 
furtive  watchfulness  in  his  eyes,  as  though 
on  the  lookout  for  some  one.  Who  was 
the  olyect  of  his  search?  Was  it  Katie, 
whose  answer  to  his  proposal  had  not  yet 
been  given?  Was  it  Dolores,  whom  he  had 
tracked  on  the  previous  evening  ?  Or  was 
it  liis  rival  Lopez,  with  whom  he  had  yet 
to  stand  in  mortal  conflict?  Whichever  it 
was  did  not  appear,  for  Ashby  was  doometl 
to  be  unsi'ecesstul,and  to  return  to  his  inn 
a  baftled  man.  Barely  time  enough  was 
now  left  him  to  snatch  a  hasty  repast,  after 
which  he  hurried  to  the  station. 

The  place  was  thronged.  Passengers 
were  arriving, and  tlie  train  was  filling  rap- 
idly, Ashby  stood,  as  he  had  stood  on  the 
previous  day,  watching.  Singularly  enough, 
Lopez  also,  like  himself,  was  again  on  the 
lookout,  for  he  could  see  him  scowling  in 
the  distance.  No  words,  liowcver,  passed 
between  them,  and  the  challenge  which 
Lopez  liad  threatened  was  not  yet  forth- 
coming. At  length  the  patience  of  l)oth 
was  rewarded. 

A  cab  drove  up.    The  broad  face  of  Rus- 


18 


A  CASTLE  IN  SI'AIX. 


sell  was  seen  tlirongh  the  window.  Tlw 
rest  of  the  party  were  inside.  But,  to  Ash- 
by's  amazement,  he  saw  Harry  Rivers  rid- 
ing outside  with  the  driver.  As  the  eab 
stopped.  Rivers  leaped  lightly  down,  and 
opened  tlie  eab  door  himself.  Then  old 
Russell  got  out.  Then  Harry  assisted  Mm. 
Russell  to  descend.  After  this  lie  assisted 
Katie  out  of  the  cab,  and  Ashby  saw  tliat 
she  looked  as  fresh,  as  bright,  and  as  bloom- 
ing as  a  rose,  that  she  showed  not  a  trace 
of  care  or  anxiety,  and  that  she  was  as 
sprightly  and  cofpiettish  as  ever. 

"  Confound  the  fellow  !"  growled  Ashby 
to  himself,  as  he  wondered  how  Harry  had 
found  them  out  and  made  their  ac(piaint- 
anee,  envying  him  also  his  good  luck.  Rut 
the  climax  had  yet  to  come.  There  was  one 
passenger  more.  This  one  also  was  assist- 
ed out  of  the  cab  by  Harry.  To  the  utter 
stupefaction  of  Ashby,  this  one  was  Do- 
lores. 

So  overwhelmed  was  Ashby  that  he 
stood  without  motion,  having  quite  lost  all 
tliat  presence  of  mind  and  coolness  wliieh 
usually  distinguished  him.  It  was  won- 
derful enough  to  find  Harry  hand  in  glove 
witli  the  Russells,  but  to  find  Dolores  there 
along  with  Katie  was  a  knock-down  blow. 
It  made  his  situation  so  confused  and  full 
01  complications  that  he  could  not  think  of 
any  course  of  action.  So  he  stood,  and  he 
stared,  and  the  party  came  along  on  their 
way  to  the  train.  As  they  apjjroached 
Katie  looked  at  him  with  a  bright  smile, 
full  of  tender  meaning,  and  a  flush  passed 
over  her  face.  Dolores,  on  the  contrary, 
allowed  her  dark  eyes  to  rest  on  him  for 
an  instant,  and  then  looked  down.  This 
troul)Ied  him,  for  at  that  moment  it  happen- 
ed that  he  was  longing  for  a  smile  from 
Dolores.  Still,  he  was  glad  to  get  that 
look  from  Katie.  The  fact  is,  the  fellow 
was  too  ridiculous,  for  he  actually  wanted 
a  smile  from  each  of  them. 

As  they  passed  Harry  drojiped  behind. 

"  Look  here,  Ashby,"  said  he ;  "  where  in 
Heaven's  name  have  yon  hid  yourself  all 
the  morning  ?  I  thought  you  wanted  to 
tind  lyiiss  Westlotorn." 

"  So  I  did,"  said  Ashby,  in  a  rueful  tone. 

"  Why,  confound  it,  man,  she  was  close 
by  us  all  the  time.  Wlien  I  went  out  I 
found  your  dear  friend,  old  Russell." 

"  Russell !"  cried  Ashby ;  "  but  how  did 
you  get  acquainted  with  him  ?" 

"Acquainted!"  cried  Harry.  "Man 
alive  I    By  Jove !  a  man  ought  to  know  his 


own  tailor,  oughtn't  he  ?  I  didn't  thiul; 
of  it  last  night.  I  thought  your  Russt' 
was  a  difl'erent  man:  the  name  is  conuim. 
enough, you  know.  People  generally  dotl;.' 
their  tailors,  but  I'm  not  proud,  and  I  don 
owe  him  V(U'y  much;  and,  besides,  this  i 
Spain,  and  he  can't  dun  me.  Moreover,  ii 
was  in  a  street  row,  and  I  helped  him  or 
with  my  Spanish.  What  the  mischief  doi 
he  mean  Ijy  coming  with  his  family  to  15m 
gos  with  no  other  language  than  English 
But,  by-the-bye,  old  fellow,  I  must  liuriv 
I'm  going  to  join  their  party  and  travel  i 
their  carriage.  Hope  you'll  enjoy  yourstl: 
as  well  as  I  intend  to.  I  would  iiave  ex 
cused  myself,  only,  you  know,  when  then 
a  chance  of  travelling  with  a  couple  of  stu 
pretty  girls  as  those,  only  a  madman  woiii 
decline." 

All  this  A  xrry  poured  forth  in  a  torni 
of  words,  and  before  Ashby  had  a  chain 
of  making  a  remark  he  was  off.  Aslih 
watched  him,  and  saw  him  enter  the  ca: 
riage  where  Katie  and  Dolores  had  goi 
with  the  Russells;  and  then,  drawing 
long  breath,  he  went  slowly  to  the  trai 
and  took  his  seat.  There  was  only  oi; 
other  occupant  of  the  carriage  where  ! 
sat.  This  was  a  priest.  He  wore  a  broai 
brimmed  hat;  his  eyes  were  concealed  1 
spectacles :  he  had  also  a  heavy  bron 
beard  and  mustache.  So  engaged  was  1 
in  reading  his  breviary,  that  as  Ashby  c 
tered  he  did  not  look  up  or  take  any  i: 
tice  of  liim  whatever. 

Lopez,  also,  had  seen  the  whole  procci 
ing,  and  had  put  on  it  his  own  iuterpni 
tion.  As  Ashby  entered  the  train  so  d; 
he,  and  soon  the  whole  of  these  pen]i 
whose  fortunes  were  so  entangled  wi; 
whirling  along  to  the  North. 

Ashby  sat  buried  in  gloom,  with  1, 
heart  full  of  bitterness  and  wrath;  of  env 
hatred,  malice,  and  all  uncharitablem- 
He  had  hoped  to  see  Katie.  He  had  com: 
ed  quite  confidently  on  meeting  once  nn: 
with  Dolores.  He  had  felt  sure  of  ILir: 
Rivers.  But  now  all  three  had  failed  liii; 
and,  what  was  worse,  all  three  had  dril'li 
away  from  him  in  one  another's  comi):ui; 
and  appeared  to  be  perfectly  indifi'ercnt  t 
him,  and  perfectly  happy  without  him. 

The  priest  was  unsociable,  and  kept  rc;i' 
ing  his  breviary  as  though  his  life  depend 
ed  upon  it.  Yet  this  made  no  difleniu 
to  Ashby.  He  did  not  desire  to  makt'  mr 
new  acquaintances  or  talk  small-talk  wii 
strangers.    He  preferred  to  be  left  to  h 


A  CASTLE  IN  SPAIN. 


'la 


own  tiioufrlits.  dismul  as  they  were.  He 
was  ill  no  mood  for  couvcrsatiou,  lor  'lis 
mind  was  full  of  mnterLil  for  meditation, 
conjecture,  \-onder,  and  bewilderment. 

Wliy,  he  thought,  had  Dolores  deserted 
him?  IIow  had  s!ie  become  acquainted 
with  Katie?  And  Harrj-  — to  wliich  of 
these  two  was  he  makini^  himself  so  in- 
fernally agreeable  ?  Whichever  it  was,  it 
seemed  equally  bad.  Ashby  felt  bitterly 
resentful  against  all  of  them.  Katie  seemed 
to  be  the  worst.  She  might  have  contrived, 
he  thought,  to  give  him  some  sign.  But 
then  he  recollected  that  on  the  previous 
evening  he  was  tracking  Dolores,  when  he 
ought  to  have  gone  on  Katie's  trail.  As 
for  Dolores,  he  thought  tliat  she  hiight  at 
least  liave  shown  herself  when  he  was  wan- 
dering through  the  streets  in  the  morning 
hours.  Hat  perhaps  slic  expected  to  find 
him  in  the  neighborhood  of  Katie.  Evi- 
dently he  himself  had  acted  like  a  fool  in 
leaving  tiie  hotel.  As  for  Harry  Rivers,  he 
could  not  help  feeling  as  though  this  was 
the  worst  of  all.  Harry  had  it  now  all  his 
own  way:  a  gay,  careless,  impulsive  tlog — 
a  fellow  who  would  forget  the  whole  world 
while  under  the  influence  of  a  pair  of  bright 
eyes — a  fellow  who  was  even  now,  perhaps, 
trying  to  cut  him  out.  The  miserable  hum- 
bug, also,  by  a  most  abominable  chance,  had 
both  these  girls.  Botli !  Insatiate  mon- 
ster !  would  not  one  suflicc  ? 

Tlius  Ashby  chafed,  and  fumed,  and,  I 
am  sorry  to  add,  swore  terribly ;  but  all 
the  while  the  train  kept  rolling  on  and  on, 
until  at  length  the  Ebro  valley  was  reach- 
ed. Here  the  scenes  that  opened  to  view 
Were  most  attractive.  Far  away  on  either 
ride  was  a  broad  plain,  dotted  with  towns 
and  villages,  and  filled  with  olive-groves 
and  vineyards,  where  cattle,  and  sheep,  and 
goats  grazed  peacefully,  and  shepherds, 
l^atherds,  and  vine-dressers  stared  lazily 
up  as  the  train  rolled  by.  The  distant  ho- 
rizon was  everywhere  terminated  by  lofty 
mountains — on  the  south,  the  circling  range 
of  the  Sierra  de  Grados;  on  the  north,  the 
long  line  of  the  Pyrenees  and  the  Asturian 
mountains,  their  sides  covered  with  foliage, 
their  sununits  crowned  with  snow.  It  was 
a  ground,  too,  which  was  rich  in  associa- 
tions of  history  and  romance,  the  arena  of 
gal  hint  struggle  and  heroic  effort  for  many 
and  many  an  age;  a  place  that  called  up 
memories  of  ITannil)al,  with  his  conquering 
armies;  of  Rome, -with  her  invincible  le- 
gions; of  Charlemagne,  with  his  Paladins; 


of  Abd-er-Rahman,  with  his  brilliant  Sara- 
CL'ns ;  of  the  steel-clad  Crusaders;  of  the 
martial  hosts  of  Arragon ;  of  the  resistles3 
infantry  of  Ferdinand  and  Isabella;  of  the 
wars  of  the  Spanish  succession  ;  of  the  red- 

;  coats  of  Wellington ;  through  all  the  ages 
down  to  the  time  of  this  story,  when  Don 
Carlos  was  standing  among  these  northern 
mountains,  as  Pelajo  stood  more  than  a 
thousand  years  ago,  leading  on  his  hardy 

I  warriors  to  battle  against  all  the  rest  of 

I  Spain. 

I  So  the  train  rolled  on — past  the  numer- 
ous stations;  past  the  towns  and  villages; 
past  the  long  groves  and  vineyards;  past 
the  barren,  sandy  tracts ;  past  the.hill-sides, 
with  shepherds,  and  flocks,  and  herds ;  past 

;  the  roads,  with  long  trains  of  mules;  past 
the  peasants  lolling  over  walls  and  fences 

\  —so  the  train  passed  on,  mile  after  mile 

!  and  hour  after  hour ;  but  nothing  of  all 
this  was  noticed  by  Ashby,  who  sat  buried 
in  his  'doomv  reverie,  from  which  lie  was 

'unable  to  rally,  until  at  length  the  train 

;  came  to  a  sudden  full-stop. 

I  About  such  a  sudden  and  abru])t  stop 
there  was  something  very  singular  indeed. 
No  station  was  near.    The  country  seemed 

\  wild  and  deserted,  and  no  cause  was  like- 

,  ly  to  stop  the  train  at  such  a  place  except 

'  some  serious  accident. 

The  priest  started  up  with  a  quick  move- 
ment, tlirnst  the  breviary  into  his  pocket, 

'  and  peered  cautiously  out  of  the  window, 

'  looking  first  backward  and  then  forward. 

'  It  was  this  movement  that  first  roused  Ash- 
by.    He  too  started  up  and  looked  out. 

The  sight  that  lie  saw  was  so  startling 
that  it  served  most  effectually  to  chase 
away  all  morbid  fancies,  and  give  him 
something  to  think  about  of  a  far  more 
serious  character. 


CHAPTER  V. 


HOW    TIIK    WIIOI.K    PARTY   COMK    TO    GRIEF,  .\Nn   ARE 
CARRIKD    AWAV    CAITIVK. 

It  was,  in  truth,  a  strange  and  startling 
sight  that  met  Ashby's  eyes  as  he  looked 
out  of  the  window.  The  train  had  been 
stojxped  in  the  midillc  of  a  plain,  where 
the  road  ran  along  an  embankment  al)ont 
three  feet  high.  A  crowd  of  armed  men 
were  here,  gathered  about  the  locomotive, 
and  already  forming  lines  i  long  each  side 
of  the  train.  All  looked  shabby,  none  had 
any  pretensions  to  uniforms,  and  their  ap- 


so 


A  CASTLE  IN  SPAIN. 


pcanviicc  was  not  sufficiently  i)ictiirt'S(juc 
lor  brii,'iin(l3.  In  fact,  Ihcy  looked  like  a 
gan^'  of  goatlierds  who  had  just  taken  to 
brigandage. 

"A  hard  lotl"  muttered  Asliby  to  him- 
self. 

Soon  the  tatterdemalions  reached  tlie 
8])ot,  and  extended  their  lines  on  ijoth  sides 
to  the  end  of  the  train.  At  every  window 
they  shouted,  '■  15ack  !  back !  ]k'  ([uiet,  and 
no  harm  will  be  done!''  Shouting  such 
words  as  these,  they  aimed  their  guns  so 
recklessly  and  with  such  furious  gestures  at 
the  windows,  thi't  the  passengers  all  shrank 
back,  not  only  into  their  seats,  but  even  into 
tiieir  lioots. 

The  lines  of  armed  men  thus  stood  guard- 
ing the  train,  while  the  jjasseugers  cowered 
inside.  After  a  time  a  cry  was  heard  from 
some  one  who  was  passing  along,  and  who, 
as  he  passed,  kept  shouting  into  each  car- 
riage. 

"This  train  has  been  stojjped  in  the 
name  of  his  Majesty  King  Charles.  All 
])assengers  are  ordered  to  come  out  forth- 
with. Anns  and  weapons  of  all  kintlsmust 
be  left  behind.  Resistance  will  be  punish- 
ed with  death.     God  save  the  King!"' 

After  this  the  guards  came  and  opened 
all  the  doors,  and  the  ])assengers  stepped 
forth  in  obedience  to  orders.  Of  these  there 
were  about  a  hundred  altogether,  and  each 
one  remained  on  the  sjjot  where  he  alight- 
ed, and  was  Ibrbidden  to  move  in  any  di- 
rection. From  where  Ashby  stood  he  could 
see  the  whole  crowd  —  the  prisoners  and 
their  captors.  He  saw  a  grou])  alighting 
from  a  carriage  a  little  alicad.  First  came 
Harry  Rivers,  stei)ping  out  quite  gayly,  as 
though  it  was  a  picnic.  On  reaching  the 
ground,  he  turned  and  assisted  the  ladies 
to  descend.  This  he  did  by  the  simple  yet 
pleasing  jirocess  of  lifting  them  down  bodi- 
ly— tirst  Katie,  then  Dolores.  At  this  sight 
Asliby  gnashed  his  teeth  with  jealous  rage. 
Then  came  Russell,  whom,  it  is  perhaps  un- 
necessary to  state,  Harry  did  not  lift  down. 
Nor  did  that  gallant  and  chivalrous  youth 
venture  to  lift  down  Jlrs.  Russell,  being  at 
that  particular  moment  engaged  in  conver- 
sation with  Katie. 

Dolores,  having  descended,  stood  apart, 
and  her  dark-glancing  eyes,  as  they  wan- 
dered searchingly  about,  fell  full  upon  Ash- 
by.  It  was  a  glance  full  of  that  same  deep, 
earnest  meaning  which  he  had  noticed  in 
the  morning;  and  so  she  stood  looking  at 
him,  too  far  away  to  speak,  while  Ashby 


looked  at  her  also.    After  a  time  Ilanv'. 
roving  eyes  restetl  upon  his  friend,  and  wiiii 
a  laugh  he  drew  Katie's  attention  to  hinij 
At  this  Katie  looked,  an<l  smiled  brighthj 
and  nodded  her  pretty  little  head  halfr 
dozen  times.     To  Ashby  this  seen.ed  likil 
mockery.     Katie,  he  saw,  coidd  very  wel. 
i)ear  this  .separation,  which  was  so  painl'iiJ 
to  himself,  and  could  laugh  and  be  hajipyl 
with  others,  and  could,  perhaps,  jest  abou;! 
his  own  melancholy  face.     So  Ashby  bow-r 
ed  sulkily,  and  turned  away  his  head. 

It  was  rather  a  novelty  —  this  sort  oil 
thing.     Brigands  in  every  age  had  stopiH;'! 
travellers,  but  then  they  had  always  bei 
in  coaches  or  carriages,  on  horseljaek  or  ( 
foot.     Never  before  had  they  tried  to  st' ; 
a  railway  train.     And  yet  in  the  progri 
of  civilization  the  world  had  to  come  ui 
this.     The  manners  of  man  easily  iiccom- 
modate  themselves  to  the  inventions  ol'j 
man,  and  highway  robbery  can  be  done 
easily  on  a  railroad  as  on  a  carriage  roai 
Nevertheless,  these    particular    men    Avln  i 
stopped  this  particular  train  wci'c  not  brii; 
ands:  on  the  contrary,  they  were  soldiu^^ 
forming  part  of  the  army  of  one  who  calknj 
himself  King  of  Spain — in  short,  Carlists.   ^ 

The  passengers  were  now  ordered  tf 
come  forward  for  examination,  one  l)y  out 
Here,  on  u  little  knoll,  on  one  siile  of  tin 
locomotive,  stood  the  leader  of  the  band. 
He  was  a  stout,  thick-set  man,  with  dark 
hair  and  bushy  beard.  Arouml  him  weri 
a  score  or  so  of  armed  men.  The  rest  (ii 
the  band  stood  s'lmrding  the  train.  On 
by  one  the  ))assengers  came  forwartl.  Eail. 
one  was  then  ordered  to  hand  over  all  tli. 
money,  jewellery,  watches,  or  other  valuii- 
bles  which  he  po.sscssed.  This  was  to  Ik 
a  contribution  to  his  Royal  Majesty  KiiiL' , 
Charles,  who  was  in  sore  need  of  such  con- 
tributions from  all  his  loving  and  loyal  siil'- 
jeets,  in  order  to  carry  on  the  \\i\r  again^! 
the  rebels  who  were  resisting  him.  Again>i 
such  a  command  as  this  there  could  be  no 
protest,  and  from  it  no  appeal.  No  one 
otTered  to  do  either.  Gold,  silver,  copper, 
dirty  paper-money,  watches,  rings,  brooch- 
es, pins,  bracelets,  trinkets  of  male  and  tl- 
male  use,  were  thrown  promiscuously  down 
into  a  large  basket  M'hich  stood  at  the  fi .: 
of  the  Carlist  chief,  who  loftily  disdaini-i 
searching  any  one,  assuring  them  that  ii' 
trusted  to  their  honor  as  Spaniards. 

Then  came  the  turn  of  tiie  Russell  party. 
First  the  Paterfamilias  disgorged.  It  was  i 
well-filled  wallet,  uud  Russell  liung  it  down 


^, 


til 

Ik 
k1. 
rk 

of 

'I!' 
d. 

1l' 
111- 
lie 

lb- 
list 
list 
no 
)iie 

ICT, 

di- 
ll- 
wn 

(".■: 
ii'^i 
ii'-' 

•ty, 

IS:1 


TIIK    TWO    nill.NDS    WK.UK    COMKdlllAlil.V    SKATKI)    IN    TUK    KIKJMS    (IK    liAKIiY     KIVKKS. 


TllK    CAI'TUUK    OK    TUK    TUAIN. 


i 


^1 
i 


A  CASTLE  IN  SPAIN. 


21 


witliout  a  won!.  His  watch  fullowcd. 
Tlit'ii  Clime  some  trinkets  from  tlie  Indies; 
then  Harry's  purse  and  watcli.  After  this 
they  were  about  to  move  away  to  wlicrc 
the  otlicr  ])asscngers  had  gone,  hut  the 
Carlist  chief  slopped  them. 

"By  the  command  of  liis  Most  Gracious 
Majesty  Kini,'  Ciiarles,"'  said  he,  "you  are 
to  be  detained." 

'•  May  I  in(iuire  ibr  wliat  cause  ?"'  asked 
Harry. 

"  Because  you  are  foreigners,"  said  tlie 
Cavlist  eliief 

Harry  transhited  this  to  Russell,  wiiose 
face  assumed  a  sickly  pallor.  To  him  this 
was  terrilile. 

Tlie  Carlist  chief  then  directed  them 
where  to  go,  and  two  of  the  band  led  them 
to  the  s[)ot. 

Other  Spaniards  now  followed,  and  de- 
posited their  sujierrtuous  cash  in  peace, 
without  being  detained.  Then  came  the 
priest.  He  threw  down  a  very  lean  wallet. 
No  notice  was  taken  of  him,  and  he  follow- 
ed the  otliers.  These  were  all  gathered  in 
a  grou[),  and  though  conversation  had  not 
been  prohiljitcd,  they  were  all  quite  silent, 
as  was  perhaps  natural.  Among  them  was 
Lopez,  who  had  come  there  among  the  first. 
He  stood  there  silent,  watcliful,  and  atten- 
tive. He  regarded  the  Ilussell  party  in 
particular,  and  marked  their  arrest. 

It  was  now  Ashby's  turn.  He  came  up 
and  threw  down  his  purse  and  watch.  The 
Carlist  chief  scrutinized  him  carefully,  and 
then  said, 

"  Senor,  you,  being  a  foreigner,  are  to  be 
detained  for  a  future  examination." 

'•  May  I  join  the  other  foreigners  V  asked 
Ashby. 

The  Carlist  chief  shook  his  head. 

"  Pardon  nie,  senor,  but  His  Majesty  has 
issued  strict  orders,  which  must  be  obeyed. 
Each  foreigner  must  be  examined  by  liim- 
sulf.     The  regulations  are  very  stringent." 

AVitli  tliis  he  directed  one  of  his  men  to 
lead  the  prisoner  away ;  and  Ashby,  who 
for  a  moment  liad  hoped  that  he  would  be 
able  to  join  the  Russell  party,  now,  to  his 
great  chagrin,  found  himself  led  away  to 
another  place  too  distant  to  allow  of  any 
communication  with  his  friends. 

The  mere  fact  of  this  arrest  was  not  so 

bad  to  Ashlty,  since  the  others  were  in  the 

same  case  precisely;  but  in  this  continued 

separation  from   them  he  found  material 

.    for  fresh  suspicion  and  renewed  jealous}-. 

,|    Katie  seemed  to  him  to  be  altogether  too 


bright,  and  lively,  and  joyous.  He  could 
sec  that  she  was  laughing  and  talking  with 
Harry  (piite  merrily.  This  separation,  which 
brought  sorrow  to  him,  evidently  brought 
joy  to  lier.  AV'as  she,  then,  alU-r  all,  a  mere 
shallow  tlirt  i  Had  all  her  love  been 
feigned  ?  Was  it  ])ossible  that  she  could 
so  soon  forget?  With  these  thoughts, anil 
others  like  them,  this  idiotic  youth  persist- 
ed in  tormenting  himself. 

At  lengtli  the  examination  was  ended, 
and  at  its  close  the  Carlist  chief  improved 
the  occasion  Ijy  addressing  a  few  words  to 
the  Spaniards.  He  reminded  them  that 
Don  Carlos  was  their  riglitful  king;  that 
this  contribution  was  no  more  than  his 
due ;  that  they,  one  and  all,  ought  to  cher- 
ish a  lively  affection  for  his  sacred  ])ers()n ; 
that  they  ouglit  to  continue  this  good  work 
which  they  had  begun  liy  sentling  more; 
and  that  the  king  Avould  be  graciously 
pleased  to  accept  whatever  tliey  might 
contribute.  In  his  own  person  the  gallant 
chieftain  thanked  them,  and  also  in  the 
name  of  His  Majesty,  for  their  generous 
contributions.  Finally,  he  informed  them 
that  His  Majesty,  in  his  boundless  pity  and 
compassion,  had  graciously  permitted  them 
to  resume  their  journey.  The  only  excep- 
tion to  tliis  ])ermission  was  that  of  a  feu- 
foreigners,  wlio  were  detained,  lest  there 
might  be  spies  among  them.  Against  gen- 
try of  this  sort.  His  Majesty's  government 
had  to  be  particularly  on  their  guard.  The 
country  was  swarming  with  them.  They 
generally  pretended  to  be  news  correspond- 
ents, but  in  reality  they  were  paid  agents 
of  the  enemy.  If  any  such  should  be 
caught,  they  would  be  shown  no  mercy. 

With  this  address  he  dismissed  the 
Spanish  portion  of  the  passengers,  who 
hastily  re-entered  the  train.  Tlie  English 
prisoners  were  allowed  to  retain  their  lug- 
gage. Accompanied  by  some  Carlists,  tlicy 
chose  out  what  they  tliought  needful,  and 
this  was  set  aside.  Russell  took  nearly  all 
of  his.  Jleanwhile  others  of  the  l)and  went 
through  the  train,  and  helped  themselves 
to  whatever  seemed  useful.  Among  the 
things  thus  selected  as  useful  were  the 
mail-bags,  which,  like  the  foreigners,  were 
taken  away  for  further  examination. 

After  this  the  obstructions  were  removed 
from  the  road,  the  engine  started,  the  train 
went  on  its  way,  and  the  prisoners  saw  it 
no  more. 


83 


A  CASTLE  IN  SPAIN. 


m 


ciiAPTEu  vr. 

now    IIAUIIY   AND   KATIK   MA.NAOE  TO   KNJOY   TIIEM- 
MKLVl'3  IN   TIIKIIl  CAITIVK   8TATK. 

TiiK  train  moved  off;  ami  us  tlie  puflin;^ 
ami  panting  of  tiic  cnj^inc,  the  niniblu  of 
the  wiieels,  anil  the  shriek  of  tiie  whistle 
died  away  in  llie  distance,  the  captive  pas- 
senf^ers  felt  desolate  indeed,  for  it  seemed 
as  though  hope  itself  hail  i)een  taken  from 
them. 

The  Carlist  cldef  then  spent  some  time 
in  examining  the  contributions  of  the  loyal 
sulycets  of  King  Charles.  These  appeared 
to  give  him  much  satisfaction,  and,  after 
due  inspection,  were  gathered  up  and  de- 
posited in  a  stout  oaken  chest. 

He  now  turned  his  attention  to  the  i)ris- 
oners,  and  brietly  examined  them  as  to  their 
nationality,  residence,  etc.  Harry  acted  ns 
general  interpreter,  so  that  there  was  no  dif- 
ficulty in  coming  to  a  full  understanding. 
The  chief  informed  them  that  they  would 
have  to  be  conveyed  to  another  place  for 
fuller  examination.  He  deplored  the  ne- 
cessity of  this,  and  advised  tliem  to  be  i)a- 
tient,  telling  them  that  they  should  be  put 
to  us  little  trouble  as  possiijle,  and  that  all 
would  no  doubt  turn  out  well  in  the  end. 
This  he  said  first  to  the  Russell  partj-,  and 
afterward  to  Ashl)y.  The  Russell  party 
had  nothing  to  say,  except  old  Russell  him- 
self, who  saitl,  perhaps,  more  than  was  pru- 
dent under  such  delicate  circumstances. 
He  cliafed  and  fumed,  all  in  English,  and 
muttered  something  al)out  British  iron- 
clads and  writing  to  the  Times.  He  also 
made  some  vague  threats  about  the  wrath 
of  England,  and  made  the  statement  that 
Britons  never  would  be  slaves.  But  this 
was  in  English,  and  Harry  did  not  think  it 
wortli  while,  on  the  whole,  to  translate  it 
to  the  Carlist  chief.  Nor  did  Harry  feel 
very  much  inclined  to  say  anything  on  his 
own  behalf.  There  was,  indeed,  nothing  to 
be  said ;  and,  besides,  he  liappencd  to  be 
enjoying  himself  very  much  with  the  young 
ladies. 

The  Carlist  chief  made  the  same  state- 
ment to  Ashby,  who  once  more  tried  to  ef- 
fect a  communication  with  his  friends. 

"  Will  you  allow  me  now,  Sefior  Captain," 
he  said,  "  to  join  the  other  foreign  prison- 
ers? They  are  my  fellow-countrymen,  and, 
in  fact,  my  intimate  friends." 

"  Certainly,  sciior,"  said  the  Carlist  chief, 
graciously.  "  For  my  own  part,  I  have  no 
objection— that  is,  for  the  present.    But  I 


must  first  see  what  they  have  to  say  nlji,  ^p, 

"•  ad' 

He  did  so.  gi^i 

Ashby  would  have  gained  his  wish  if  ^j^^ 
had  not  been  for  Russell.     "When  the  C;,     » 

,  list  chief  informed  them  that  the  other  Eii,|jq| 
lisliman  wished  to  join  them,  Russell  niin  j  g 
Harry  translate  this  to  him.  The  monicmi, 
thai  he  understood  the  request,  lie  bur  i 
forth  into  a  passionate  tirade  against  A«:  ^[a 

jby;  and  all  the  rage  and  fury  that  mii;i  rj, 
be  due  to  this  misadventure  was  now  pou  > 
ed  forth  upon  Ashby's  head.  oui 

"The  infernal  puppy!"  he  cried,  "lil'll 
join  us  ^  Never!  I'd  rather  turn  Carli  * 
myself,  or  brigand.  If  he  is  forced  upi  gn 
us,  I  will  keep  my  wife  and  my  ward  ap;rcoi 

:  and  aloof  from  him.  Oh,  curse  it  all !  il  dai 
could  only  speak  Spanish!     But,  Mr.  Ri  am 

'  ers,  I  insist  upon  your  telling  this  Si)ani-ftn( 

captain  that  we  will  not  have  it."  )  •, 

And  so  on.    Harry  found  it  u.scles3  to  ii  hir 

gue  with  him,  and  so  he  told  the  Carlipai 

I  chief  that  Russell  objected.  The  Carlithc 
chief  then  returned  and  told  Ashby,  ithj 
whom  this  was  another  cruel  blow.  gel 

"It  will  make  no  dill'erence,"  said  tl  ♦ 
Carlist  chief,  who  saw  his  dejection,  ";.tru 
you  will  all  be  taken  to  tlie  same  place."  ' 
Two  nuiles  were  now  driven  up,  harnc-  ' 
ed  to  a  curious  vehicle  that  might  hav  ' 
taken  Noah  and  family  to  the  ark.  IiiiKa 
this  the  Russell  party  entered,  namely,  M:  ' 
Russell,  Mrs.  Russell,  Katie,  Dolores,  an  he: 
Harrv'.  In  addition  to  these  there  was  tliinc 
driver.  Armed  men  followed  on  foot.  erj 
Another  similar  vehicle  drove  up  to  takMi 
the  luggage,  and  into  this  Ashby  was  tol  fre 
to  go.  Some  time  was  occupied  in  loadiii:ly 
this,  so  that  when  Ashby  started  the  other  . 
were  already  far  ahead.  sid 

The  Russell  party  were  conveyed  vcrpe 
slowly.     At  first  their  route  lay  along  thi 
plain,  and  then  when  this  was  traversi.^ 
they  began  to  ascend  among  the  moiiiith: 
tains.     The  pace  had  all  along  been  slo^t 
enough,  but  now  it  became  a  crawl.     Tliiall 
party  were  variously   occupied.      Russci. 
was  grumbling  and  growling;  ISIrs.  Russci 
was  sighing  and  whining;  Dolores  wassifoi 
lent  and  thoughtful ;  Harry,  however,  main 
tained  his  usual  flow  of  spirits,  and  Ibuiiti 
in  Katie  a  congenial  soul.    These  two  liiiotle 
been  devoting  themselves  to  one  anotluiCa 
during  the  whole  journey,  and  by  this  tinn  — 
they  felt  quite  like  old  friends.    Each  li^ 
a  lively  disposition,  too  buoyant  to  rcniairlai 
depressed,  and  each  was  glad  to  take  anyisi 


H 


'  \a 


I 


A  CASTLE  IX  SPAIN. 


bo 


opportunity  of  rallyin;,'  from  the  strokes  of 
advcrso  fortune.    Thus  each  was  able  to  as- 
8i«t  the  other  bravely  in  the  noble  effort  to 
''^  rlie  superior  to  circunistanoes. 
^'"     «»Thi>  i^  a  bore,"  said  Harry,  "  a  beastly 
'■'"-borel     I  know  what  I  sliouUl  like  to  do— 
'>'"I  BhodM  walk,  if  it  were  not  that  I  very 
i"!  much  prefer  being  with  you." 
Jiir-     ••'But  I  should  like  to  walk  too,"  said 
'^^'  Katie.    '•  Do  you  think  they  will  let  us,  Mr. 
''.i-'i Rivers?     It  would  be  too  lovely !" 
)ou      "Will  you,  really  ?"  said  Harry,  in  a  joy- 
ous voiee.    "Oh.  tliey'U  let  us, fast  enough. 
"lilTlask." 

iili  So  Harry  asked,  and  permission  was 
'1"  grouted  readily  enough,  for  the  mules 
ip;i  could  then  go  on  faster,  and  there  was  no 
''danger  of  these  two  escaping  from  twenty 
Hi  armed  men.  Accordingly,  Harry  got  out 
"ii>nni4  assisted  Katie  in  the  usual  way,  name- 
l;,?)y  lifting  her  down.    They  then  fell  bc- 

0  a  iiintl  tlie  wagon,  walking  along  at  a  slow 
u  li  paoc,  having  this  advantage,  that,  although 
'liitlley  were  not  making  any  greater  progress 
y,  itlltti  before,  they  were  left  more  to  them- 
selves, and  were  under  less  restraint. 

li     "  Do  you  like  this  ?"  asked  Harry,  as  they 

1  ""trudged  along. 

.'."'      "Oh,  very  nmch  indeed." 
nc-     "It's  better  tlian  the  wagon, isn't  it?'' 
I'.iiv     "I'm  so  mrfulbj  tired  of  the  wagon !"  said 
Ini  Katie. 

,  31;     ♦.'And  we  can  talk  without  being  over- 
all helrd,"  said  Harry.     "Of  course  I  don't 
s  tl.m^n  to  say  that  we  say  anything  that  ev- 
erybody miglitn't  hear;  but  then,  you  know, 
liikM3|8  Westlotorn,  one  can  talk  much  more 
tol  feiily  when  one  isn't  surrounded  by  a  cold- 
itieal  audience." 

,t  tiiis  Katie  laughed,  and  stole  a  shj', 
long  glance  at  liim,  as  though  she  sus- 
ed  some  deeper  meaning  in  his  words 
that  which  appeared  on  the  surface, 
o  you  feel  very  much  frightened  at 
adventure?"  continued  Harry, 
c  frightened?''  said  Katie.     "Not  at 
What  an  idea !" 
♦Really  not?" 

f|No,  really.    Do  you  know,  I'm  rather 
IS  sifoad  of  adventures." 

But  isn't  this  p,  little  too  serious?" 
^Why,  Mr.  Rivers,  I'm  sure  I  think  it's 
ightful.    These  men  are  Carlists,  and  all 
'lists  are  gentlemen.    I  dote  on  Carlists 
do,  really." 

Well,  so  do  I— if  you  do,"  said  Harry, 
hingly;  "only  you  must  allow  that  it 
t  a  very  gentlemanly  thing  to  stop  us 


on  our  journey,  relievo  )ts  of  our  purses, 
and  carry  us  oil"  to  parts  unknt)wn  in  a 
mule-cart." 

"Oh,  you  shouldn't  look  at  it  in  that 
light.  That's  too  awfully  prosaic.  Now 
I'm  ronumtie,  and  I'm  positively  grateful 
to  them  for  providing  \\\v.  with  such  a  de- 
lightful little  adventure." 

"  Do  you  love  adventures  '." 

"Love  them?"  replied  Katie,  with  the 
drollest  look  in  the  world.  "Why,  I  posi- 
tively dote  on  them  I"' 

Her  smile  was  so  sweet,  and  her  face  so 
bewitching,  that  Harry  thought  he  never 
saw  any  face  so  lovely. 

"You  sec,"  continued  Katie,  "I  mope 
and  mope,  and  keep  moping  so ;  and  things 
grow  so  tiresome,  that  I  fairly  ache  for  an 
adventure."' 

"Well,  but  suppose  that  you  were  in  an 
awful  lun-ry  to  meet  some  one,  and  were 
stoppe(\  II'  tl  is  fashion  C^ 

At  this  E  citie's  whole  expression  changed. 
She  looked  at  Harry  with  a  face  full  of 
sympathy,  behind  which  there  was  visible 
tlie  most  intense  curiosity. 

"Oil,  Mr. Rivers,"  said  she,  "I'm  so  sor- 
ry I  And  are  you  in  an  awful  hurry  to 
meet  some  one  ?'' 

"Awful!"'  said  Harry. 

"  Oh,  ]\Ir.  Rivers,  I'm  so  sorry  1"  said  Ka- 
tie again.  "And  won't  you  tell  me  all 
about  it, please?'' 

Now  Harry  was  by  nature  inclined^  to 
make  the  world  his  confidant;  and  'ow 
much  more  was  he  ready  to  contide  in  such 
a  one  as  Katie,  who  invited  his  confidence 
with  such  tender  sympathy!  Resides,  he 
already  felt,  as  has  been  said,  quite  like  an 
old  acquaintance.  Ashby's  relations  to  Ka- 
tie made  her  seem  nearer  to  him.  She  was 
his  friend's  betrothed.  And  then,  too,  he 
had  been  chatting  with  her  all  day  long. 

"You  see,"  said  he,  "  I'm  on  the  lookout 
for  a  friend." 

At  this  Katie  smiled  with  indescribable 
comicality. 

"Won't  I  do?"  she  asked. 

Harry  stared  at  h'^r  fc  •  a  moment,  and 
then  burst  into  a  laugli,  in  which  Katie 
joined  merrily. 

"  I  dare  say  now,  !Mr.  Rivers,"  said  she, 
"  you  think  I'm  too  slight  an  acquaintance 
to  be  trusted;  but  you  know,  in  Spain, 
when  one  meets  with  a  fellow-countryman 
who  can  speak  English,  why,  you  know,  one 
can't  help  feeling  quite  like  an  old  friend, 
and  that  sort  of  thing ;  and,  mind  you,  when 


84 


A  CASTLK  IN  SPAIN. 


one  has  Ijccn  tiikcu  jjrisonur  by  the  Carlists, 
one  feels  iniicli  more  so,  you  know.  Hut 
all  the  HiiMic,  I  hope  you'll  exeuse  me;  1 
dklii't  nieim  any  hiinn." 

At  tills  Hurry  lauj,'liecl  still  more. 

"You're  not  mad  r'  Haul  Katie,  wilh  u 
droll  assumption  of  anxiety. 

"  Will  you  really  be  my  friend  i!"  naked 
Harry. 

"  Of  eourse.  Didn't  I  say  as  mucli  ?"  said 
Katie. 

"Then  let's  shake  hands  over  it,"  said 
Harry,  "and  swear  an  eternal  friendsliip." 

Saying  this,  he  held  out  his  hand,  and 
Katie  held  out  hers.  Hurry  pressed  it 
wannly  and  tenderly. 

"Well,"  saiil  Harry,  after  a  pause,  "I'll 
tell  you  all  about  it,  for  I  want  your — your 
sympathy,  you  know,  and  your  advice,  you 
know,  and  all  that  sort  of  thing,  you  know." 

"Well,  do  you  know,  Jlr.  Hivers,"  said 
Katie,  "that's  my  .strong  point.  I  always 
liave  at  my  disposal  any  amount  of  sympa- 
thy; and  as  for  advice,  why,  I  could  begin 
av.d  go  on  advising,  and  advising,  and  ad- 
vising, from  now  till — well,  not  to  be  too 
extravagant,  I'll  merely  say  till  doomsday, 
So  now — icon't  you  begin?'' 


CHAPTER  VH. 

IX  Wmcn  HARRY  UKCOMES  CONTIDKNTIAr,,  AND  TKLLS 

A  v?:ry  ukmarkable  story. 

IIariiy  paused  a  little  longer,  and  then 
said, 

"  "Well,  you  sec,  the  friend  that  I  wanted 
to  see  is  a  lady." 

"Of  course,"  said  Katie;  "that's  n  self- 
evident  fact.  I  know  that,  and  she  is  your 
ladylove.  But  I  want  to  know  all  about 
her,  and,  first  of  all,  her  name." 

"I  didn't  think  that  you  thought  I  was 
thinkii;g  of  a  lady,'' said  Harrj'. 

"What  a  ridiculous  ol.)servation  I"  said 
Katie;  "and  I  know  you  only  say  that  to 
tease  me,  when  you  know  Pm  so  curious 
about  this  friend  of  yours." 

"Well,"  said  Harry,  "in  the  first  place, 
her  name  is  Talbot." 

"Talbot?    What  else?" 

"  Sydney— Sydney  Talbot." 

"  Sydney  Talbot !  But  that  isn't  a  girl's 
name ;  it's  a  man's  name." 

"  At  any  rate,"  said  Harry, "  it's  her  name.'' 

"  Well,  but  hasn't  she  some  pet  name — 
something  \uorc  femiuine,  such  as '  Minnie,' 


for  instance,  or '  Nellie,'  or '  Kit  tie,'  or '  Flor- 
rie,'  or  something  of  tiiat  sort  ?" 

"No;  her  only  name  is  Sydn(!y  Talbot, 
You  see,  Sydney  is  a  family  name,  and  Inul 
to  be  perpetuated.  She  had  no  brothers, 
and  so  it  was  given  to  her.  Hir  father's 
I  name  was  al.so  Sydney  Talbot,  and  Ini 
grandfather's,  and—" 

I  "An<l  her  great-grandfather's,"  chimed 
in  Katie,  "and  .so  on  up  to  Noah;  but  his 
name,  at  any  rate,  was  not  Sydney  Talbot. 
1  Now  this  is  a  very  romantic  beginning,  sn 
I  go  on.  I  will  only  remark  that  1  intend  tn 
be  great  friends  with  your  wife  some  day, 
and  (hat  Pve  made  up  my  mind  to  call  hci 
'Syddie.'  She  is  actually  pining  for  a  pc; 
mime.     But  what  do  you  call  her  r 

"I?     Oh,  I  call  her  Jliss  Talbot." 

"Missl  You  call  her  Mi.ss  — Talbot  ; 
What  a  horrible  idea!  And  you  ])reteii(l 
to  love  her!"  cried  Katie, reproachfully. 

"Well  —  but,  you  know,  Sydney  is  tm 
still'." 

"  Then  why  not  invent  a  name  i  Cal! 
her '  Poppet,'  or '  Topsy,'  or  '  Fillne,'  or  '  ]{(i- 
sic,'  or '  Grade.'  AVhy,  I  could  supply  yoi 
with  lifty  or  sixty  names  on  the  sjjot.  I5i;: 
this  is  all  idle  tritling.  Go  on  and  tell  iii' 
more.  Give  a  full  and  complete  accou:;' 
of  your^self  and  your 'own  one.'" 

"  Well,  you  know,  I'm  doing  business  i: 
Barcelona,  and  we  were  engaged  to  be  mm 
ried  last  year." 

"  Did  you  see  her  last  in  Barcelona  ?'' 

"  No,  in  England,  last  year.  I  met  her  i 
London." 

"Have  you  not  seen  her  since  ?" 

"  No.  Wc  have  corrcsiionded  ever  sine 
and  this  marriage  was  arranged  by  letter. 

"Oh,  but  you're  not  mariied  yet?"  sa: 
Katie,  in  a  low  voice. 

"  No,"  said  Harry,  "  and  Heaven  on' 
knows  when  Ave  ever  shall  be." 

"Why?" 

"  Oh,  well — because  th.ere's  been  sucli 
muddle  about  it  all.     You  sec,  I  propose 
and  was  accepted,  in  the  usual  course  i    ;j 
things."  : 

"  Ah,  now,  Mr.  Rivers,"  said  Katie, "  tlia; 
not  fair !" 

"Fair!  what  isn't  fair ?" 

"Why,  you're  skipping  all  the  Ix 
part." 

"  The  best  part  ?    I  don't  understand,' 

"  Well,  I  mean  you're  leaving  out  all  t! 
love  parts.  I  want  to  hear  all  about  yo: 
love  affair  —  how  you  first  saw  her;  he 
you  felt ;  how  she  treated  you ;  how  p 


i 

as 

e( 


lei 


Kl 


A  CA.STLi:  IN  ai'AIN. 


were  tonncntud  by  the  ptuiKs  of  jealousy, 
iif,'itut((l  l)y  liope  iiiul  liar, until  you  knew 
that  mIio  was  yourn.  Ami  you  liave  the 
heart  to  skip  all  this  and  f^o  on  to  the  stu- 
pid, eonunonplace  end  of  it  I" 

Harry  Jau-^'hed. 

"Well,"  Maid  he,  "the  end  of  my  rase 
lias  not  yet  come ;  nnd  the  farther  on  I  j,'() 
the  more  exciting  it  j^'n^^vs.  Hut  I'll  tell 
you  all  if  you  ^vant  me  to.  Shall  I  l)ei,dn 
at  the  beginning,  and  tell  you  how  I  first 
beeame  acquainted  with  her?" 

"  Yes,  yes,  <lo  T'  siiid  Katie,  cagcrlj'. 

"  Well,  it  was  at  sea,  in  a  trememlous 
gale,  when  we  both  were  face  to  faee  with 
death."' 

At  this  Katie  threw  uj)  her  cyea,  clasped 
her  liamls,  and  exclaimed, 

"Oil,  how  perfectly  ix-cpiisite !  how  ut- 
terly ililicious!  how  (pilte  too  awfully  jol- 
ly!    But  when  J  where  i    Oh,  t/ogo  on  !' 

"It  was  aboard  the  steamer  from  Mar- 
seilles to  Tiegliorn.  During  the  night  af- 
ttT  leaving  a  furious  storm  arose.  The 
steamer  was  an  old  rattletrap,  and  soon  i)e- 
gan  to  leak  fearfully.  I  was  in  my  berth, 
trying  to  sleep,  mIicu  at  last  1  was  roused 
by  a  yell  from  all  the  crew  and  passengers. 
I  rushi'd  out  and  on  deck,  and  saw  the  sea 
all  breaking  in  loam  over  the  vessel.  The 
passengers  an<l  crew  were  all  n»ixcd  up  in 
a  wild,  confused  mass,  trying  to  scramble 
'into  the  boats.  This  was  made  visible  by 
llu!  lightning  flashes  at  intervals,  after 
which  everything  would  become  as  black 
as  night.  I  saw  that  nothing  could  be 
done,  so  I  took  my  .stal'on  near  the  mizzen 
shrouds,  iuid  held  on  there,  waiting  for  the 
cud.  While  here  I  saw  a  female  tigure 
crouching  down  under  the  bulwarks  and 
clinging  there.  Partly  out  of  i)ity,  and 
partly  for  the  s.ike  of  having  something  to 
do,  I  helped  her  up  to  her  feet,  held  her  up 
in  that  position,  and  told  her  to  cling  to 
the  shrouds,  and  stay  by  uie  as  long  as  she 
■possibly  could. 

"At  length,  in  the  midst  of  a  flash  of 
lightning,  I  happened  to  notice  that  the 
jolly-boat  was  hanging  from  the  davits 
astern.  No  one  was  near:  every  one  was 
running  about  forward.  I  determined  to 
1|nakc  an  efl'ort  for  life.  The  woman  was 
|ilmost  senseless,  so  I  half  carried,  half  drag- 
ged her  to  the  boat  and  got  her  in.  Then 
;|  passed  a  line  around  the  scat  of  the  boat 
•|^ld  secured  her  to  it ;  after  which  I  began 
lio  lower  the  boat  down.  This  was  a 
^euced  hard  job,  but  I  managed  it  at  last. 


Then  I  jumped  in,  and  cut  the  line  that 
lield  us,  ami  away  we  went  in  the  boat, 
which  was  sent  spinning  along  like  a  feath- 
er over  the  boiling  sea.  1  don't  know  how 
wo  kept  afloat,  but  we  diil.  The  womau 
never  spoke  one  word.  So  we  passed  a 
fearful  night,  and  at  length  morning  came. 
Then  the  woman  began  to  cry  bitterly.  I 
soothed  her  as  well  as  I  could. 

"  We  were  in  a  terrible  sitiuition.  The 
storm  had  nearly  gone  ilown,  but  wo  were 
thn'atened  with  something  worse,  for  wc 
had  neither  water  nor  i)rovisions.  I  gave 
my  C()m|)iini()n  some  brandy,  which  revived 
1  her.  Vfii  wire  far  away  out  of  sight  of 
land,  and  no  sails  were  visible  anywhere. 
I  had  a  couple  of  oars,  and  with  these  I 
pulled  toward  the  north,  ily  comimnion 
soon  regained  her  composure  and  her 
strength,  and  we  were  able  to  discuss  our 
prospects.  She  told  me  her  name  and  des- 
tination. She  was  on  her  way  to  Koine  to 
join  her  father,  in  company  with  an  aged 
relative  and  her  maid.  Her  father  had 
been  ill,  and  had  been  living  in  Italy  for 
his  health.  She  was  anxioi's  about  him, 
but  .still  more  troubled  al)()Ut  her  relative, 
who  had  been  left  on  board  the  steamer. 

"Miss Talbot  was  very  beautiful,  and  the 
most  unsellish  person  I  ever  saw.  She  was 
perpetually  trying  to  lighten  my  labor. 
She  insisted  on  taking  an  oar  and  trying 
to  row.  She  bore  up  most  uncomplainingly 
against  our  hardships.  In  fad,  she  acted 
like  a  regular  Ijriek.  Of  couise,  before  I 
had  talked  with  her  half  an  hour  I  was 
head  over  heels  in  love  with  her." 

"But  it's  awfully  nice  to  have  your  life 

saved,  and  be  alone  together  in  a  boat  like 

that,"  said  Katie.     She  spoke  in  an  injured 

j  tone,  as  though  a  sliipwrcck  was  .something 

highly  desirable,  which  a  harsh  fate  had 

,  cruelly  kept  away  from  her. 

"Well,"  continued  Harry,  "we  starved, 
and  starved,  nnd  choked  with  tliir.st,  for 
two  or  three  days ;  but  slie  never  uttered 
one  single  murmur." 

"  I  should  think  not,"  said  Katie.  "  What 
had  she  to  complain  of?  "What  more  could 
she  want?  Why,  it  was  utterly  lovely  !  I'm 
sure  I  sliouldn't  care  to  cat  one  single  bit  if 
I  were  in  such  a  situation.  I  could  not  be 
hungry  at  such  times — I  never  am.  Hun- 
gry, indeed  !'* 

The  idea  was  too  absurd,  so  Katie  dis- 
missed it  with  scorn. 

"I  could  sec,"  continued  Harry,  "  that 
she  was  suflfering.     Her  face  grew  paler 


2C 


A  CASTLE  IN  SPAIN. 


and  iinler.  She  was  evidently  growing 
■■■•ei(ker.     Slie  looked  at  me  piteously — " 

"  Oh,  you  will  be  so  prosaic !"  interrupted 
Katie.  "  Can't  you  see  that  it  wasn't  hun- 
ger at  all  ?    It's  the  old,  old  story : 

" '  Tlieii  her  clieok  wns  palo,  and  thinner 
Than  thonld  be  for  one  so  young, 
And  her  eyes  on  all  my  motions 
With  a  mute  observance  huni,'.' 

"And  I  said,"  continued  Katie — 

"  'And  I  said,  my  learcst  Pnrd'ner, 
Speali,  and  speak  the  truth  to  me  ; 
'Vvwi'i  WW,  I'ard'iier;  all  the  current 
Of  my  being  turns  to  thee.' 

"The  fact  is,"  she  added,  abruptly,  "I  be- 
lieve you're  making  up  nearly  tlie  whole 
of  this!" 

"Making  it  up!"  cried  Harry.  "Me! 
Why  ?" 

"  AVhy,  because  such  delightful  situations 
never  do  occur  in  real  life.  It's  only  in  lic- 
tion." 

"No,  really,  now — it  was  really  so,"  said 
Harry.  "Wliy  should  I  make  this  up? 
lieally,  on  my  honor — " 

"Well,  you're  coloring  the  facts,  at  least," 
said  Katie.  "If  it's  all  true,  I  think  it's 
hard  on  poor  people  like  me,  that  never 
can  find  any  plcastint  excitement  to  l)reak 
tlir  monotony  of  life.  But  never  mind — 
please  go  on." 

"  Well,"  continued  Harry,  "  we  drifted  on 
for  several  days.  We  saw  vessels,  ))r.t  they 
were  too  far  away  to  see  us.  At  last  we 
came  in  sight  of  land,  and  there  we  were 
jiieked  up  bj  a  boat  that  took  us  to  Leg- 
horn. I  th'.'n  went  on  with  ]Miss  Talbot  to 
Kome.  I  learned  that  we  were  the  only 
ones  that  had  been  saved  out  of  the  ill- 
fated  steamer.  ISIiss  Tttlbot's  father,  who, 
as  I  said,  was  an  invalid,  had  heard  the 
news,  and.  thinking  his  daughter  lost,  sank 
under  the  blow.  On  our  arrival  at  Rome 
he  was  dead.  It  Mas  a  mournful  end  to 
our  journey. 

"He  was  buried  in  Rome.  3Iiss  Talbot 
returned  to  England  with  an  English  fam- 
ily, Avith  whom  her  father  had  been  ac- 
cpiaintcd.  I  did  not  intrude  on  her  ju.st 
then,  but  paid  her  a  visit  afterward.  At 
that  time  we  came  to  an  understanding, 
and  then  I  went  back  to  Barcelona.  And 
now  I  come  to  the  real  point  of  my  story — 
the  thing  that  I  was  going  to  tell  you." 

"  Oh,  I'm  so  very  much  obliged,"  said 
Katie.  "  for  what  you've  told  me  thus  far !" 

"  Xow,  Miss  Talbot,  you  must  know,  has 
very  few  relatives.     She's  the  last  of  an 


ancient  family,  and  one  or  two  uncles  and 
aunts  are  all  that  are  left  besides  herself. 
Her  life  has  been  by  no  means  gay,  or  even 
cheerful,  and  perhaps  tliat  was  one  reason 
why  she  was  willing  to  accept  me." 

"  How  delightful  it  is,"  said  Katie,  "  to 
see  such  perfect  modesty!  3Ir.  Rivers,  you 
are  almost  too  diffident  to  live!" 

"  Oh,  but  really  I  mean  that  a  girl  like 
Miss  Talljot,  with  her  wealth,  and  ancient 
family,  and  social  standing,  and  idl  thtit, 
might  '  ave  the  pick  of  all  the  best  fellows 
in  the  country." 

"  That  stands  to  reason ;  and  so  you  im- 
ply that  when  such  a  lady  chose  you,  you — " 

"  Ah,now,  5IissWestlotorn,I  didn't,"  saiil 
Harry.  "  I'm  not  so  infernally  conceited  u< 
all  that,  you  know." 

"But  hadn't  she  promised  in  the  Ijoat .'" 

"In  the  boat!     Well, yes— " 

"Of  course:  then  why  did  she  have  to 
choose  you  again  V 

"  Oh,  well — in  the  boat  it  AVtts  an  inf  n- 
nnd  sort  of  thing.  But  never  mind.  Blie 
proinis(-d  to  marry  me,  and  I  went  l)ack 
to  liaicelona.  We  then  corresponded  for 
about  a  year." 

"How  awfully  dreary!"  sighed  Katie 
"I  do  so  detest  letter  writing!  If  I  Iiik! 
to  write  letters,  I  would  break  the  engage- 
ment." 

"  Well,  it's  a  bother,  of  course,"  said  Har- 
ry;  "but,  afte  all,  a  letter  is  the  only  sul - 
stitute  one  can  have  for  the  absent  one." 

"And  how  long  is  it  since  you  last  sa^v 
her?" 

"A  year." 

"A  year!  Why,  j'ou  must  have  utterly 
forgotten  what  slie  looks  like.  Shoidd  yn'i 
l)c  able  to  recognize  her,  if  you  were  h 
meet  her  in  a  crowd  ?" 

"  Oh  yes,"  said  Harry,  with  a  lauLjli, 
"Now  you  must  know  that  when  I  wa- 
engaged  I  expected  to  go  to  England  ii: 
about  three  months'  time  to  get  marrit-il 
Business,  however,  detained  me.  I  hopi  i 
to  gp  iigain,  a  few  montlis  later.  But  tl; 
fact  is,  I  found  it  impossible;  and  so  en 
for  a  whole  year  I  was  detained,  until  at 
last  I  had  to  write,  imploring  her  to  cmi, 
out  to  me  and  Ite  married  in  Barcelona." 

"  Well,  for  my  part,  I  never  would  mnrry 
a  man  unless  lie  came  for  me,"  said  Katie. 

"  Then  I'm  glad,"  said  Harry, "  that  yo;i 
are  not  ^Miss  Talbot.     She  was  not  so  cnul 
as  that ;  for  though  at  first  she  refused,  si 
at  last  consented  and  promised  to  coiiu". 
This,  however,  was  only  after  long  begging 


^:¥n 


I   *-vi>-t5^. 


C^VSN 


XJ^^» 


^^:^ 


I'ili.:|,. 


?'    I'; 


I: 


m 


■'W 


A  CASTLE  IN  SPAIN. 


27 


on  my  part,  and  a  full  explanation  of  the 
difficulties  of  my  position.  So  she  consent- 
ed, and  finally  mentioned  a  certain  day  on 
whicii  she  -would  leave ;  and  that  was  about 
a  fortnij^'ht  aijo. 

"Now,  you  know,  all  the  time,  I  felt  aw- 
fully ahout  her  having  to  come  on  alone, 
until  at  length,  as  ill-luck  would  have  it, 
it  so  happened  that  I  was  able  to  steal  a 
few  days  from  my  business.  So  I  deter- 
■itoined,  after  all,  to  go  on  for  her.  Fool 
that  I  was,  I  didn't  telegraph  !  There  was 
|io  time  to  Avrite,  of  course.  You  see,  I  was 
'lucli  an  idiot  that  I  only  thought  of  giving 
ier  a  pleasant  surprise.  This  filled  my 
Blind  and  occupied  all  my  thoughts,  and 
ill  the  way  on  I  was  chuckling  to  myself 
6ver  my  scheme;  and  I  kept  fancying  how 
delighted  she  Avould  be  at  finding  that,  af- 
ter all,  she  would  not  have  to  make  the 
journey  alone.  I  was  so  full  of  this  that 
I  couldn't  think  of  anything  else.  And 
po^v  I  should  like  to  ask  you  calmly,  Miss 
JVestlotorn,  one  simple  question  :  Did  you 
ijiver  hear  in  all  your  life  of  such  a  perfect 
•nd  unmitigated  chuckle-head  T' 

"  Never !"'  said  Katie,  in  a  denuire  tone. 
•  '■  AVell,"'  continued  Harry,  ruefully,  "  luck 
was  against  me.  I  met  with  several  de- 
lays of  a  tedious  kind,  and  lost  in  all  about 
two  days.  At  last  I  got  to  my  destination, 
and  then^theu — in  one  word,  tliere  came  a 
thunder-clap.     What  do  you  think  T' 

"  What  r' 

"  She  was  gone  !"' 

"  Gone  r 
',   ''  Yes.     She  had  gone  the  day  before  my 
iarrival.     She  had  written  again,  and  had 
telegraphed.    She  had  then  set  out,  expect- 
frg  me  to  receive  her  with  all  a  lover's  ea- 

terncss  at  Barcelona,  at  the  hotel  which  I 
ad  mentioned  to  her  in  my  last  letter,  and 
hoping  al>o  that  I  might  possibly  turn  up 
At  any  station  after  passing  the  Pyrenees, 
^hat  do  you  think  of  that?  Wasn't  that 
i  blow  ?    And  was  it  my  fault  ?" 

"  Certainly  not,"  said  Katie,  in  a  sootli- 
:  voice.     "  Not  your  fault,  only  your  mis- 
fertnne.     Rut  what  did  her  friends  say  ?" 

"Her  friends?      Oh,  they  v.'cre  awfully 
indignant,  of  course,  but  1  couldn't  waft 
to  exi)lain  it  all  to  them.    The  moment  I 
found  out  how  it  was,  I  turned  on  my  heel 
pud  hurried  back  to  Barcelona.    I  travel- 
led night  and  day.     I  got  there  without 
%iy  interruption,  and  rushed  to  the  hotel 
^Irhere,  according  to  my  direction,  she  was 
''$0  have  gone." 


"  Well,"  asked  Katie,  as  Harry  paused, 
"  was  she  there  V 

"No,"  said  Harry;  "but,  worst  of  all,  she 
had  been  there  !  Yes,  she  had  been  there. 
She  had  made  the  journey;  she  had  reach- 
ed Barcelona;  and  I — I,  for  whom  she  had 
come,  I  was  not  there  to  meet  her.  AVell, 
when  I  did  get  back  she  was  gone." 

"  Gone  ? — gone  where  ?" 

"Why,  where  else  could  .she  have  gone 
but  home  again  ?" 

"  True.  Being  a  girl  of  spirit,  ,she  never 
could  stand  such  treatment  as  that.  But 
did  she  leave  no  message  for  you  ?'' 

"  Not  a  word,  cither  in  writing  or  in  any- 
other  way.  I  asked  the  hotel  people  al)out 
her,  but  they  knew  nothing  in  particular. 
She  had  not  told  anything  about  herself. 
She  had  come,  and,  after  two  or  three  days, 
had  gone.  She  had  gone  only  the  day  be- 
fore I  got  back." 

"And  you,  of  course,  must  have  started 
after  her  all  the  way  back  to  England,  and 
that's  tlie  reason  why  you  are  here — " 

"  Yes,"  said  Harry :  "  the  only  hope  I  had 
was  to  overtake  the  train  that  i)receded 
me.  It  was  not  impossible  that  it  might 
be  delaj'cd,  and  that  my  train  should  come 
up  with  hers.  That  was  my  only  hope,  but 
of  course  all  this  is  now  up." 

"Oh,  well,"  said  Katie,  in  a  consoling 
tone, "  you'll  see  her  again  before  long,  and 
you  can  explain  it  all ;  and  when  she  finds 
out  that  it  all  arose  from  an  excess  of  zeal, 
she  will  see  that  your  fault  was  one  on  tlie 
right  side,  and  she  will  love  you  all  the 
better.  And  so  you  will  both  have  many 
and  many  a  laugh  over  this  queer  misad- 
venture; and  it  will  be  something  that  will 
give  flavor  and  spice  to  all  your  future  life. 
Why,  I'd  give  anything  to  have  just  such 
an  adventure — I  would,  realh'.  I  wish  I 
was  in  Jliss  Talbot's  place.  I  quite  envy 
her — I  do,  really  ;  that  is,''  .she  added,  with 
a  little  confusion,  "her  adventure,  you 
know." 

"  You  have  such  a  nice  way  of  putting 
things,"  said  Harry,  "  that  I  wish  I  could 
always  have  you  to  go  to  for  symjiathy." 

"Sympathy?"  said  Katie.  "Oh,  you 
know  that's  quite  my  forte." 

Harry  looked  into  her  clear,  sunny  eyes 
as  they  were  raised  to  his,  full  of  Inight- 
ness,  and  archness,  and  joyousness. 

"And  won't  you  let  me  call  you  '  Katie,'  " 
said  he,  "just  while  we're  travelling  to- 
gether ?  I  feel  so  awfully  well  acquainted 
with  you,  you  know ;  and  I've  told  you  all 


28 


A  CASTLE  IN  SPAIN. 


about  my  affuirs,  you  know,  just  as  if  you 
■were  my  oklest  Irieiul." 

"  I  should  like  it  above  all  things,"  said 
Katie.  "  I  hate  to  be  called  IMiss  Westlo- 
torn  by  my  friends.     It's  too  formal." 

"  And  you  must  call  me  '  Harry,' "  said 
this  volatile  young  man.  "You  will,  now, 
won't  you  ?"  he  added,  in  a  coaxing  tone. 

Katie  did  not  prove  ol)durate. 

"  Well — Harry,"  she  said,  with  a  bewitch- 
ing smile. 

"  I  think  you're  awfully  nice,"  said  Harry. 

"  Well,  I'm  sure  I  think  you're  a  very 
nice  boy,"  said  Katie,  in  a  childish  way. 

For  some  time  longer  the  party  contin- 
ued their  journey.  Harry  and  Katie  found 
walking  so  much  plcasanter  than  riding  in 
the  rude  cart  that  they  refused  to  get  into 
the  vehicle  again,  although  urged  to  do  so 
very  strongly  both  by  Mr.  and  Mrs,  Russell. 
For  his  part,  Harry  declared  that  he  in- 
finitely preferred  Avalking;  and  Katie,  on 
being  appealed  to,  said  that  the  jolts  of  the 
wagon  made  her  head  ache.  So  these  two 
continued  their  walk. 

Gradually  it  grew  darker,  and  the  twi- 
light deei)ened  with  the  rapidity  common 
in  southern  latitudes.  Then,  fearing  lest 
Katie  might  be  fatigued,  Harry  made  her 
fcike  his  arm.  After  this,  being  still  full 
of  anxious  fears  lest  so  fair  and  fragile  a 
being  might  sink  under  the  wearisome 
tramp,  he  took  her  little  hand  as  it  lay  on 
his  arm,  and  held  it  in  his  for  all  the  rest 
of  the  way.  And  what  Ashby  would  have 
said  or  thought  if  he  had  seen  that,  is  more 
than  I  can  tell,  I'm  sure. 

The  moon  was  shining,  and  its  brilliancy 
was  wonderful.  Now  they  entered  among 
the  mountains.  Far  on  high  ascended  the 
lofty  wooded  slopes  on  one  side,  while  on 
the  other  they  descended  into  a  valley.  Be- 
yond this  there  were  other  heights,  while 
in  the  valley  Ijctwccn  there  Avas  a  beauti- 
ful winding  river.  A  turn  in  the  road 
brought  them  at  "length  to  a  place  where 
the  valley  widened,  and  far  away,  shining 
like  silver  in  the  moonbeams,  flowed  the 
river, 

"  With  many  a  wiuding  throngh  the  vale." 

All  around  rose  an  amphitheatre  of  hills, 
some  wooded,  some  precipitous,  arid  be- 
hind these  rose  the  summits  of  loftier 
mountains  far  into  the  sky. 

Here,  full  before  them,  there  arose  a 
grand  and  stately  castle.  Perched  upon 
the  crest  of  a  spur  where  it  projected  from 


the  flank  of  a  mountain,  it  stood  before  tiio 
new-comers  the  centre  of  the  whole  sceiu', 
the  crown  and  glory  of  it  all.  In  the  gar- 
ish sunlight  there  might  have  Ijeen  por. 
cei'tible  many  and  many  a  mark  wrougiu 
by  the  destructive  hand  of  time,  for  ages 
had  passed  since  it  first  reared  its  lonllv 
form  on  high.  Its  architecture  spoke  of 
hoar  antiquity,  of  a  time  long  jiast,  when 
the  Moor  still  fought  around  these  scenes, 
and  rushed  to  the  fight  to  the  war-cry  of 
Allah  Akbar!  But  now,  bathed  in  the 
mellow  moonlight,  this  ancient  castle  show- 
ed all  its  grand  pro])ortions,  with  not  ;i 
trace  of  decay  or  desolation ;  and  its  mns- 
sive  walls  arose  in  solenni  majesty;  its  bat- 
tlements frowned  in  heavy  shadows  over- 
head ;  its  lofty  towers  and  turrets  secnuil 
still  able  to  defy  the  assaults  of  time  fur 
ages  yet  to  come. 

For  some  time  past  the  country  had  licfii 
growing  steadily  wilder  ami  less  jjeophil 
until  here  there  seemed  a  virtual  solitudr 
On  reaching  the  spoi.  the  party  found  a 
massive  gate-way  with  a  ponderous  portal. 
Beyond  this  opened  the  court-yard,  and  ii; 
the  distance  rose  the  keep.  Here  liglil- 
shone,  and  the  noise  of  revelry  came  t' 
their  cars. 

And  now  the  prisoners  entered  and  were 
taken  in  charge  Iiy  others,  and  Ashby,  wli- 
arrived  about  an  hour  afterward,  was  alsu 
taken  to  his  quarters. 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

now  THE  sPANisn  rnn-:sT  mkkts  witu  a  straxgl 

ADVKXTLUE. 

The  train,  which  had  been  released  liy 
the  Carlists,  went  on  its  way,  and  after  run- 
ning about  ten  miles,  came  to  a  little  town, 
Here  a  long  stay  was  matle,  during  whicli 
information  was  received  of  so  serious  a 
character  that  it  was  resolved,  for  the  pres- 
ent at  least,  not  to  go  any  farther.  In  tlic 
first  place,  the  train  which  had  immcdiatel; 
preceded  had  halted  at  the  next  station  In 
yond,  and  this  train  could  not  move  uiiti' 
the  other  had  started ;  but,  in  addition  t  - 
this,  there  came  reports  of  all  sorts,  to  tl.o 
elTect  that  the  whole  country  was  ,6warniii'.L' 
with  Carlists,  who  had  occupied  the  lini> 
of  railroad  and  cut  the  telegraph  wires.  I; 
was  the  latter  circumstance  that  was  nic-; 
troublesome,  since  it  made  it  impos.sibli'  t ' 
get  any  definite  information. 

The  end  of  it  was,  that  the  passengn- 


sli: 
em 
thi 
an( 
att 
wa 
Sft' 
am 
dis 
hoi 
wa 
his 


J!3< 


A  CASTLE  IN  SPAIN. 


29 


liftd  to  shift  for  themselves,  ami  lind  shelter 
and  occupution  as  best  tliey  CDukl,  until 
they  sliould  be  able  to  go  ou  to  their  des- 
tinati()ii;5 :  of  whieli  ])assengers  only  two 
need  be  mentioned  here,  namely,  Captain 
Lopez  and  the  priest.  The  former,  having 
been  thus  niilely  separated  from  Katie,  Inul 
no  object  in  going  any  farther,  and  there- 
fore Avas  quite  willing  to  remain  in  this 
{dace.  But  it  soon  appeared  that  he  had 
plenty  to  do.  lie  at  once  set  forth  to  com- 
Uionicatc  Avith  the  civil  and  military  au- 
tlforitics,  in  the  hope  of  obtaining  assist- 
ance toward  rescuing  Katie  from  her  cap- 
tivity ;  and  such  was  his  zeal  and  energy, 
tbat  before  long  he  had  received  the  most 
earnest  promises  of  assistance  and  co-oper- 
ation from  all  to  whom  he  applied.  As  for 
tbe  priest  aforesaid,  he  had  a  difterent  i)ur- 
poee,  and  that  purpose  did  not  lead  him  to 
make  any  effort  to  ])rocurc  lodgings,  lie 
refreshed  himself  with  a  repast  at  the  near- 
<iii  liosteria,  after  which,  girding  up  his 
loins,  he  left  the  place  by  the  high-road. 
;>^hc  road  at  first  ran  through  the  plain, 
•lerc,  on  every  side,  there  stretched  away 
liilds  of  lirown  grass,  Avith  flocks  of  sheep 
and  goats.  The  attendants  upon  tliese 
were  noAvhore  visible,  and  this  lack  of  hu- 
man life  and  action  gave  to  the  country  an 
indescribal)le  air  of  solitude  and  desertion. 
In  other  respects,  hoAA'cver,  there  Avas  every- 
thing which  could  gratify  the  eye  and  the 
taste.  The  land  A\-as  fertile,  the  soil  culti- 
vated, the  scenery  beautiful.  Tall  trees — 
the  mulberry  and  the  i)oplar — arose  in  long 
lines ;  here  and  there  the  cactus  stretched 
fotth  its  tliorny  arms,  and  at  intervals  there 
appeared  tlie  dark  green  of  extensive  olive- 
gtdvcs.  Behind  the  traA'eller  there  extend- 
ed- a  Avail  of  purple  hills,  and  beibre  him 
ic  tlie  giant  heights  of  the  Pyrenees, 
long  these  last  the  road  at  length  en- 
d,  and,  Avinding  along  at  the  l)ase  of 
sloping  liills,  it  ascended  very  gradually. 

The  priest  walked  ouAvard  at  a  long, 
slinging  pace,  Avhich  told  of  the  experi- 
enced pedestrian.  For  three  hours  he  kept 
jjjjil  this  up,  l)eing  too  intent  upon  his  progress, 
u  t,i  and  U[)on  his  own  thoughts,  to  pay  much 
I  {If  attention  to  the  scenery,  except  so  far  as 
„i,,j;WW  needed  for  jmrposes  of  precautidn. 
liiH^^ll^e  for  this,  the  external  form  of  nature 
the  many  beauties  around  him  Avcrc 
egarded;  and  at  length,  after  three 
s,  he  sat  doAvn  to  rest  at  a  rock  by  the 
side.  Sitting  here,  lie  drcAV  forth  from 
pocket  a  AvcU-used  pipe,  which  he  filled 


run- 
lAvn, 
liidi 
lis  a 

ll'Ov 

1  tl:c 
itclv 


.  It 
most 
lie  to 


and  lighted;  after  Avhieli  lie  sat  smoking, 
and  sur\eyiiig,  in  a  contemplative  manner, 
the  scene  before  him. 

It  Avas,  in  truth,  a  scene  AVell  Avorthy  of 
contemplatiim.  For  many  a  mile  the  eye 
of  the  beholder  could  rove  over  the  course 
of  the  Ebro,  and  take  in  the  prospect  of 
one  of  the  fairest  lands  in  all  the  Avorld. 
lie  had  advanced  high  enougli  to  overlook 
the  valley,  which  lay  behind  him,Avit]i  lines 
of  hills  in  the  distance,  Avliile  in  front  arose 
tlie  mountains  dark  in  the  heavy  shade. 
To  the  Avest  the  country  spread  aAvay  until, 
in  the  far  distance,  it  ended  in  a  realm  of 
glory.  For  here  the  sun  was  sinking  into 
a  Avidc  basin  formed  by  a  lireuk  in  the  lines 
of  mountains,  filling  it  all  Avith  fire  and 
s|)lendor;  and  Avhile  the  hollow  between 
the  hills  Avas  thus  filled  Avilli  fiame,  im- 
mediately above  this  there  Averc  i)iled  up 
vast  masses  of  heavy  strata  clouds,  of  fan- 
tastic shapes  and  intense  blackness.  Above 
these  the  sky  grew  clearer,  but  Avas  still 
overlaid  Avith  thin  streaks  of  cirrus  clouds, 
Avhich  Averc  tinted  Avith  every  hue  of  the 
rainbow,  and  spread  over  all  the  western 
heavens  up  to  the  zenith  and  beyond. 

In  that  low  mass  of  strata  clouds  Avhich 
overhung  the  sunset  there  was  noAv  a  Avild 
convulsion.  A  storm  Avas  raging  there,  too 
far  aAvay  to  be  felt,  but  jilainly  visilile. 
The  fantastic  shapes  were  flung  together 
in  furious  disorder;  through  tlie  confused 
masses  electric  flashes  shot  forth ;  some- 
times in  floods  of  glory,  sometimes  in 
straight  lines  of  forked  lightning,  some- 
times in  rounded  lumps  of  suddenly  re- 
vealed fire— the  true  bolts  of  Jove.  ToAvard 
the  south  the  hills  lay  Avrapped  in  haze 
and  gloom,  and  in  one  part  tlicre  was  a 
lieaA-y  shower,  Avlierc  the  rain  streamed 
down  in  vertical  lines. 

The  sun  Avent  down,  leaving  behind  it  a 
redder  splendor  by  Avliich  all  Avas  glorified; 
the  river  Avound  in  molten  gold ;  the  trees 
were  tipped  Avith  purple  lustre;  the  crests 
of  the  mountains  took  on  aureoles  of  light. 
As  the  sun  still  descended,  the  scone  Avas 
sloAvly  transformed ;  the  splendor  lessened ; 
the  clouds  broke  up  into  other  forms;  the 
thick  strata  mass  dissii)ated  itself;  then 
came  a  golden  haze  over  the  Avidc  west; 
the  moon  revealed  itself  over  the  head  of 
Scorpio,  Avitli  Antares  Ix'amiiig from  a  bright 
])lace  in  the  sky. 

The  scenes  shifted  r.apidly,  and  twilight 
deepened,  until  the  clouds  made  Avay  for 
the  moon,  and,  breaking  up  into  thin  light 


30 


A  CASTLE  IN  SPAIN. 


masses,  swept  away  over  tlic  sky ;  while 
tlic  moon,  as^^uiniiif:;  its  proper  functions, 
loolved  mildly  down,  and  bathed  uU  the 
valley  in  a  mellow  lustre. 

After  about  half  an  hour's  rest,  the  priest 
arose,  put  his  ])ipe  in  his  pocket,  and  re- 
sumed his  loni^'  stridi'.  Up  tlu;  road  he 
went,  witlKJUt  stopping  again,  as  though 
he  had  resolved  to  cross  the  Pyrenees  in 
that  one  night,  and  be  over  in  France  by 
morning :  of  whom  it  might  be  said,  in  the 
words  of  the  Chinese  poet, 

"TlKit  yoiiii^'  man  walkcc  no  can  slop." 

Another  hour  brought  liim  a  good  four 
miles  farther  on,  and  still  he  kept  up  the 
same  pace,  lie  now  reached  a  place  where 
the  road  took  a  somewhat  sudden  turn, 
and  wound  around  a  rocky  projection  on 
tile  hill-side.  Here,  as  he  turned,  he  came 
full  ujion  a  (igure  tliat  Avas  walking  in  the 
opposite  direction. 

It  was  the  figure  of  a  woman;  and  in 
that  bright  moonshine  it  was  easy  to  see 
that  she  was  young,  and  graceful,  and  light, 
and  elastic.  Coming  suddenly  upon  the 
priest  as  slie  did,  at  the  turn  in  the  road, 
she  was  evidently  quite  terrified.  Her  at- 
titude Avas  that  of  a  stealthy  fugitive;  and 
as  she  met  him  there  was,  in  lier  sudden 
involuntary  gesture,  tlic  appearance  of  one 
who  has  been  captured  by  a  pursuer.  For 
an  instant  she  recoiled  in  an  agony  of  ter- 
ror, but  then  one  glance  at  the  costume  of 
the  priest  seemed  to  reassure  her;  and  then, 
clas]iing  her  hands,  she  came  nearer,  and 
said,  in  tremulous  tones : 

'■'■  Padre!  2>ndrc!  per  I'nmor  dc  Bios  soc- 
corre  me!"' 

The  priest  looked  at  her  for  a  few  mo- 
ments in  silence.     Then  he  spoke. 

"-^'te  rotis  Franfnise,  mademoiselle?"' 

The  woman  shook  her  head. 

''Eelk  Itnlianar 

Again  she  shook  her  head. 

"■hnd  Hie  I)enMi.r 

Another  shake  of  the  head,  and  then  she 
said : 

"  Yo  SOI/  Inglcsn."' 

The  priest  gave  a  long  whistle. 

"  Englisli !"'  lie  cried ;  "  English !  Then 
in  future  please  be  kind  enough  to  speak 
English,  for  your  Spanish — is — well,  de- 
clined, with  thanks." 

At  these  words  the  woman  started,  and 
then,  with  an  uncontrollable  impulse, seized 
the  hand  of  tlic  priest  in  a  convulsive  grasp. 

"  Oh !"  she  cried,  "  are  you  really— really 


an  Englishman  ?    Oh,  tliaidv  Heaven  I  than!; 
Heaven  I     Then  you  will  help  me  !" 

"English?"'  said  the  priest;  "well,  f.; 
the  matter  of  that,  I'm  anything  you  \Aq&< 
just  now,  ill  this  infernal  country.  I  rcr 
tainly  do  speak  English,  but  at  the  saiu 
time  I  i)refer  calling  myself  what  I  am- 
namely,  an  American." 

This  locjuacity  of  the  priest  made  no  in, 
pression  ujion  the  woman,  who  was  absoi' 
ed  now  by  her  one  idea  of  escape,  of  obtai:; 
ing  help,  of  flight. 

"Oh,  sir,"  she  continued,  "can  you  lni 
me?  Can  I  go  on  by  this  road^  Do  v 
know  what  I  can  do?    Will  you  tell  me; 

"Oh  yes,"  said  the  priest,  "rU  tell  vn 
I  do  not  know  what  you  can  do.  'Wli; 
can  you  do?  Yon  can  read,  perhaps,  a:. 
I  suppose  you  can  jjlay  the  piano,  and  ci 
eliet;  but  I  know  what  you  cannot  do- 
you  cannot  .speak  Spanish." 

These  words  were  spoken  witli  the  m\. 
ferent  air  of  one  who  is  thinking  of  son: 
thing  else. 

"Ah,  sir,"  said  the  woman,  in  a  tone - 
anguish,  "  don't  mock  at  me!  I'm  in  d: 
tress  unspeakable.  I've — -I've  lost  i 
way." 

She  could  scarcely  speak  from  agitatir 
The  priest  was  silent  for  a  moment.  Tlii 
he  drew  a  long  breath. 

"  Lost  your  Avay  ?"  said  he.  "  Well,  tl; 
is  queer  too.  Your  way  —  anil  what  m 
can  that  be  in  times  like  these,  and  hen 
this  country,  and,  above  all,  in  this  ]) 
of  the  country  ?  Ar(!  you  walking  I'm 
wager?  Are  you  going  round  the  wr; 
in  a  bee-line?  Do  you  carry  a  porta' 
canoe?'' 

"  I  was  in  the  diligence,"  said  the  wo: 
an,  not  choosing  to  notice  such  ill- tin 
levity,  "  and  we  were  stopped — liy  the  ( 
lists — and  I  escaped  —  and  I'm  tryiiif,' 
find  my  way  to  some  safe  place — but  I  c 
not — I  cannot." 

"  Il'm  1''  said  the  priest,  "  that  is  a  y 
incidence  too — just  my  own  case  to  ii 
I've  been  captured  by  the  Carlists  too,  a. 
I've  escaped,  and  I'm  now  making  a  1 
for  a  place  of  safety.    Well,  this  does  1 
my  grandmother,  I  must  say !'' 

" The  lady  was  too  full  of  her  own  trou' 
to  notice  the  peculiar  expressions  of : 
priest.  She  merely  continued,  as  befoio 
beg  for  help. 

"  Oil,  sir,''  said  she,  "  do  you  know  t 
way  here?  and  can  you  heli)  me  ?'' 

"Well,"  said  the  priest,  "I  know  sc: 


'CUMINU    SLDDKNLY    LI'ON    THE    I'lUEJiT,  .■^11K    WAS    EVIDENTLY    yUlTE    TEKUIKIED.' 


A  CASTLE  IN  SPAIN. 


31 


of  it,  I  may  say,  but  that  ilepeiuls  on  what 
you  menu  Ijy  knowing  it.  IJut  will  you  al- 
low nie  to  ask  you  cmc  or  two  (juustions  ', 
In  the  lirst  place,  where  did  you  c  )me  from 
last  r 

"  Last  r  said  the  lady;  "the  last  place  I 
came  from  was  Barcelona." 

"  When  r 

"Yesterday." 

"  You  spoke  of  a  diligence.  You  must 
liave  come  from  Barcelona  by  train." 

"  Of  course." 

"  Tiien  that  must  have  been  the  train 
that  stopped  over  there," 

'•  Yes ;  the  train  stopped.  I  understood 
that  it  was  not  going  on  any  farther  for  a 
long  time,  for  that  tiio  track  Avas  torn  up. 
A  diligence  was  prepared  for  those  passen- 
gers who  were  anxious  to  go  on  immedi- 
ately, and  I  was  most  eager  to  ]n'oceed 
■without  delaj',  so  as  to  get  to  my  home  as 
soon  as  possible.  So,  early  this  morning, 
"tve  left,  and  came,  without  any  incident  of 
any  kind  until  we  reached  a  place  about 
five  miles  iiway.  There  we  were  stopped 
and  rolilied.  I  believe  all  the  passengers 
■were  detained  and  held  as  prisoners — at 
least  I  myself  was.  I  was  handed  over  to 
the  care  of  a  peasant  woman,  who  took 
me  to  a  cottage.  About  two  hours  ago 
ahe  came  to  me  and  told  me  that  I  might 
go,  and  urged  me  to  lly  at  once.  I  could 
not  understand  her  very  well,  for  I  know 
very  little  Spanish  indeed,  but  I  could  see 
that  she  was  sorry  for  me,  and  offered  me 
this  chance  of  escape.  It  was  also  quite 
evident  that  she  considered  me  in  great 
danger,  and  was  frightened  about  me.  I 
felt  deeply  grateful,  and  oiTered  her  a  gold 
locket  which  had  escaped  the  notice  of 
the  robbers,  but  she  refused  it.  So  then  J 
Started  oif.  I've  come  along  the  road  ever 
since,  and  have  seen  no  one  except  your- 
self. And  now,  sir,"  continued  the  lady, 
looking  at  the  priest  with  intense  earnest- 
ness, "  can  you  help  me  {  Will  you  ?  Oh, 
fcr  the  love  of — " 

:'  Here  the  priest  interrupted  her.  The 
lady  had  spoken  in  a  low  voice,  which  had 
a  very  mournful  cadence,  and  besides  this 
there  were  signs  of  deep  emotion  in  the 
tremulous  tones  and  the  agitated  manner. 
Her  flight  had  been  a  long  and  a  hurried 
One;  the  exertion  had  been  severe;  her 
Strength  had  been  put  forth  to  the  utmost; 
she  was  on  the  verge  of  utter  exhaustion. 
Evei-jthing  in  her  appearance,  voice,  and 
ttianner  combined  to  inspire  pity  and  sym- 
3 


pnthy.  The  good  priest  luid  seemed  not 
unmoved  as  she  was  speaking,  and  now  he 
interrupted  her,  raising  his  hand,  and  speak- 
ing in  a  very  gentle  voice. 

"Ah,  now,"  said  he,  "come — none  of 
that  I  Do  yon  think  me  a  savage,  that  you 
must  i)ray  to  me  for  mercy  i  Help  you  I" 
he  repeated,  in  stronger  tones.  "  Ay,  ma- 
dame,  that  will  I,  and  with  the  last  drop 
of  my  heart's-blood  and  to. my  life's  end. 
There,  is  that  strong  enough  {  Heli)  you !" 
—and  he  gave  a  short  laugh  —  "that's 
good,  too !  Why,  what  else  have  I  been 
thinking  of  ever  since  I  met  you?  What 
else  can  you  suii])ose  that  I  intend  to  do  ? 
Isn't  it  enough  for  me  to  see  your  distress? 
But  come — it  isn't  quite  so  safe  as  it  might 
be,  and  enemies  may  be  lurking  near.  We 
must  first  find  a  place  of  retircuKJut,  where 
we  can  decide  on  what  is  best  to  be  done." 

The  tones  of  the  ])riest's  voice  were  now 
totally  different  from  those  which  he  had 
employed  hitherto.  These  were  harsh,  dry, 
indiflerent,  almost  mocking ;  but  now  they 
were  full  of  sincere  feeling  and  unmistak- 
able truth.  Their  effect  upon  the  lady 
was  very  marked  and  strong.  She  clasped 
her  hands,  bowed  her  head,  and  in  her 
weakness  was  unable  to  bear  up  under  this 
new  revulsion  of  feeling ;  so  she  burst  into 
tears  and  stood  there  weeping. 

At  this  the  priest  was  not  a  little  embar- 
rassed. For  a  moment  he  seemed  about  to 
try  to  soothe  her  ;  but  he  checked  this  im- 
pulse, and  looked  away,  whistling  softly  to 
himself.  After  a  few  moments  he  went  on, 
sjjcaking  in  a  gentle  voice  : 

"  I've  been  going  along  alone  easily 
enough,  but  now,  if  you  will  come  with  me, 
I  shall  have  to  make  some  changes  in  my 
plans.  You  see,  two  cannot  travel  so  easi- 
ly as  one ;  and  then  you  are  a  lady,  and 
an  English  lady  too,  which  in  these  parts 
means  a  wealthy  foreigner — an  object  of 
plunder.  You,  as  an  English  lady,  run  an 
amount  of  risk  to  which  I,  as  a  Spanish 
priest,  am  not  at  all  exposed.  So  you  see 
we  can  no  longer  remain  in  so  public  a  place 
as  this  high-road.  We  must  seek  some  se- 
cure place,  at  least  for  the  present.  You 
don't  seem  able  to  go  much  farther.  This 
moonlight  night  is  just  the  time  for  flight, 
but  you  need  rest  now,  antl  unless  you  get 
that  first  you  won't  be  able  to  escape  at  all. 
And  so — what  do  you  say  to  my  hunting 
up  a  hiding-place  for  the  night  V 

As  the  priest  began  to  speak,  the  lady 
had  made  a  violent  effort  to  recover  herself 


32 


A  CASTLE  IN  SPAIN. 


and  liad  succeeded  well  enough  to  listen 
attentiveiy,  only  showing  by  an  occasional 
sigh  or  sob  that  licr  distress  had  not  yet 
passed  away  altogetlier.  At  the  pi-iest's 
question  she  paused  thoughtiuliy  for  a  short 
time,  and  then  said, 

"My  being  witli  you  will  make  a  great 
difference  to  you  ?" 

"  Oh  yex,"  said  the  priest. 

"It  will  perhaps  endanger  your  safety," 
continued  tlie  lady,  anxiously. 

"Oil,  that  is  notliing,"  said  the  priest; 
"that  is  my  normal  otatc.  I  am  always  in 
danger." 

"  Still,  I  should  be  sorry  to  add  to  your 
danger,"  she  said,  hesitatingly ;  "  and  if — 
if—" 

"Well,"  said  the  priest,  sharply,  "if 
what  ?" 

"  If  I  am  a  source  of  danger,"  said  the 
lady,  cahnly,  "  I  should  prefer  going  on 
alone,  just  as  I  was;  and  I  shall  only  ask 
you  to  tell  me  wliat  is  the  nearest  town,  and 
to  give  me  generally  the  direction  to  it." 

"Oh,  you  will,  will  you  ?"  said  the  priest, 
in  the  mocking  tone  which  he  had  previ- 
ously used.  "  Well,  then,  madame,  I  shall 
only  ask  you  to  do  as  I  say,  and  ask  no 
(juestions.  I  know  the  country — you  dou't. 
I  liave  registered  a  vow  in  heaven  to  save 
you,  and  save  you  I  will,  even  in  spito  of 
all  your  teeth.  I  swear  it  in  the  name  of 
clie  great  Jehovah  and  the  Continental  Con- 
gress !" 

At  these  strange  words  the  lady  was  silent 
for  a  few  moments,  and  then  said,  in  a  trem- 
ulous voice, 

"I'll  do  anything  that  you  wish  me  to 
do." 

"  Furthermore,  my  hearer,"  continued  the 
priest,  suddenly  assuming  and  inmiediately 
droi)ping  the  whine  of  a  rustic  preacher, 
"mark  this — I  don't  mind  saying  a  few 
words  to  ease  your  scruples :  you  cannot 
make  my  position  any  more  dangerous  than 
it  is  already.  I  cany  my  life  in  my  hand 
all  the  time." 

"  Still,"  said  the  lady, "  you  can  easily 
take  care  of  j-ourself ;  but  what  a  terrible 
thing  it  would  be  if  you  should  get  into 
troul)le  on  my  account !" 

"  Well,  I'll  ask  only  one  question — what 
is  your  calling  in  life  ?" 

"  I  have  no  calling.    I'm  a  lady — " 

"  Spinster  ?"  said  the  priest,  in  a  mild 
voice. 

"  Yes,"  said  the  lady,  gravely,  and  with 
deep  sadness.    It  seemed  to  the  priest  that 


he  had  unwittingly  touched  upon  a  tendt: 
point. 

"Pardon  me,"  said  he,  "tliis  is  all  I  wi.sl. 
to  get  at.  You  are  not  a  politician,  not  i 
political  agent,  not  a  spy  ?" 

"  Certainly  not." 

"Nor  a  newspaper  correspondent  ?" 

"  No." 

"  Not  even  an  artist  ?" 

"  No  ;  nothing  but  a  simple  English  lady, 
and  only  an.xious  to  get  back  home." 

"  Very  well — very  good !"  said  the  pric-t 
approvingly.     "And  you  sluill  go  honi. 
too;  but  remember  what  I  said,  and  tni-' 
in  me.     And  now  let  us  sec  what  we  lia: 
better  do.    I've  l)een  here  before,  all  thr(Mi;,'i 
and  through  this  country,  and  know  it  lik 
a  book.     Now  just  over  there,  a  little  t 
the  west,  there  is  an  old  unoccupied  ciistl 
which  is  in  very  good  condition,  conside: 
ing  that  it's  a  thousand  years  old.     It  i 
just  the  place  for  us.     Unfortunately, tlur 
may  be  others  in  it,  for  it  is  held  from  tiin 
to  time  by  the  one  or  the  other  of  the  fli^li: 
ing  factions;  yet  even  in  that  case  I  kim 
of  an  odd  corner  or  two  where  Ave  can  elu' 
observation  for  the  present ;  for  it  is  a  vc 
— a  monstrously  large  castle,  and  I  hap|i. 
to  know  the  ins  and  outs  of  it  pretty  wcL 
I  can  assure  you  a  good  night's  rest  theru, 

"It  is  not  inhabited,  j'ou  say." 

"  No,  not  as  a  general  tiling." 

"  I'm  sorry  for  that.  If  it  were,  the  pci> 
pie  would  perhaps  give  us  shelter  and  Iool: 
and  helji  us  on  our  way." 

"  The  people  would  perhaps  give  us  mo: 
shelter  than  we  might  care  for.  But  cuii. 
— we  ought  to  be  olf,  for  you  need  rest,  ai; 
that  soon." 

The  lady  said  nothing,  but  walked  aloi,. 
with  the  priest.  For  about  a  quarter  of 
mile  they  followed  the  road,  and  then  tun 
ed  away  to  the  left  over  the  country.  lie 
their  pathway  lay  over  the  flank  of  tl. 
mountain,  and  traversed  open  fields  wliit 
were  used  for  pasture.  The  moon  slioii 
brightly,  illuminating  the  scene,  and  tl 
priest  walked  with  the  assured  air  of  oc 
who  knew  his  way  thoroughly. 

The  lady,  who  all  along  had  seemed  muc'; 
fatigued,  now  began  to  give  more  cvidcr, 
signs  of  distress.  The  priest  made  her  tak 
his  arm :  she  did  so,  and  for  a  time  was  i 
lieved.  He  sought  to  cheer  her  Avith  i: 
couraging  words.  She  responded  noM 
and  certainly  made  all  the  effort  in  li 
power;  but  her  strength  had  that  day  In 
too  sorely  tasked,  and  threatened  to  fail  li 


j»" 


'^^t 


A  CASTLE  IN  SP.UN. 


33 


tltterly.  At  last  slie  sank  to  the  grouml, 
and  Hat  there,  while  tlic  priest  waited  pa- 
tiently. 

"Courage!"  said  lie.  "Cheer  up!  Wc 
■hall  soon  1)0  there  now." 

After  a  short  rest  the  lady  recovered  a 
little,  ami  niad(!  a  final  olTort.  They  walked 
on  a3  liefore,  tlie  lady  holding  the  in-iest'.s 
trm,  anil  moving  forward  by  dint  of  des- 
perate exertions.  Bo  they  went  until  at 
last  there  appeared  ininiediately  ahead  a 
ibnssivc  tower,  which  seeuicd  to  arise  from 
behind  some  trees. 

"There  it  is,"  said  the  priest.  "One 
more  effort." 

But  the  lady  could  go  no  farther.  She 
Jank  down  on  the  ground  once  more,  with 
aoniething  like  a  groan. 

"  I  can  go  no  farther,"  said  she,  in  a  faint 
Voice. 

!'  The  priest  made  no  reply,  but  stood  for 
ibmc  time  in  silence  watching  her.  It 
was  evident  that  he  hoped  for  another 
rally  of  her  powers,  but  he  was  disappoint- 
ed; for  the  lady  sat  with  her  head  bow- 
ed down,  trembling,  weeping,  and  all  un- 
nerved. Time  passed,  and  there  was  no 
revival  of  strength. 

"  Madame !"  said  the  priest  at  length,  in 
a  harsh  and  constrained  voice. 

At  this  the  lady  gave  a  sigh,  and  tried 
to  raise  herself,  but  without  success.  After 
a  useless  effort  she  sank  down  again. 

"Madame,"  said  the  priest,  "to  stay  here 
is  out  of  the  (question.  We  have  not  much 
ferther  to  go;  the  place  of  our  destination 
li  not  far  oft",  and  I  am  going  to  carry  you 
^ere." 

"  No,"  said  the  lady, "  you  mast  not.  I — 
1_" 

"  ^Madame,"  interrupted  the  other, "  as  a 
priest  it  is  my  duty  to  succor  the  distress- 
ed, and  even  as  a  man  I  should  feel  hound 
to  save  you." 

.  "  It's  too  much  for  you,"  said  the  lady, 
llintly.  "  Save  yourself.  It's  no  matter — 
Wiat — becomes  of— of  mc." 

"Oh,  it  isn't,  isn't  it?"  said  the  priest,  in 
his  dryest  manner.  "Well,  you  will  please 
remember  that  you  and  I  are  in  the  same 
boat,  and  wc  must  win  or  lose  together. 
And  so,  as  I  don't  intend  to  be  captured 
yet  awhile,  why,  madame,  with  your  permis- 
sion, and  begging  your  pardon,  I'll  take  the 
j|bei'ty  of  saving  you  in  my  own  way.  At 
tile  same  time,  please  remember  that  it's 
riot  for  your  sake  I'm  doing  this  so  much 
08  for  my  own." 


What  jjossiblc  meaning  tlicre  might  be 
to  these  last  words  the  priest  did  not  ex- 
plain, nor  dill  the  lady  understand.  In 
fact,  there  was  no  time  for  exjilanjition. 
The  priest,  without  any  more  ado,  raised 
the  lady  in  his  arms  and  marched  oil  with 
her. 

He  was  not  a  very  large  man,  but  he  was 
very  muscular,  and  in  excellent  training ; 
so  lie  trudged  on  at  a  pace  which,  under 
all  the  circumstances,  was  really  wonderfid. 
Fortunately  he  did  not  have  very  far  to 
carry  his  Ininlen,  Before  long  he  came  to 
a  grove  of  large  tree),  which  stood  wide 
apart  and  admitted  of  an  easy  passage. 
Traversing  this,  he  at  length  reached  a  low 
tower,  Avhieh  M-as  in  a  half-ruinous  condi- 
tion. It  stood  upon  the  brink  of  a  deep 
chasm,  the  sides  of  which  were  densely 
wooded,  while  at  the  bottom  there  was  a 
brawling  brook.  Upon  tlie  other  side  of 
the  chasm  appeared  the  outline  of  a  stately 
castle,  with  walls  and  towers  and  battle- 
ments and  keep,  all  plainly  discernible  us 
they  rose  up  in  giant  projiortious. 


CHAPTER  IX. 

IN    WniCII    THE    rillEST    SEKS    A    VISION,  AND   GOES 
IN   SEAneil   OF   A   BREAKFAST. 

The  priest  placed  the  lady  on  the  ground 
near  the  trunk  of  a  fallen  tree,  against 
which  she  might  lean,  and  then,  turning 
away,  he  drew  a  clasp-knife  from  his  pock- 
et, and  began  cutting  armfuls  of  brushwood 
and  twigs  of  shrubs.  These  he  carried  into 
the  tower  and  spread  over  the  floor  with 
the  skill  of  a  practised  hand,  while  the 
lady  sat  where  he  had  left  her,  with  her 
head  bowed  down,  taking  no  notice  of  any- 
thing, and  seeming  like  one  who  was  quite 
prostrated  in  mind  as  well  as  in  body. 
When  at  last  the  priest's  task  was  ended, 
he  went  to  her  and  carried  her  inside  the 
tower. 

"  Here,"  said  he,  "  is  some  brushwood. 
I'm  sorry  that  there  isn't  anything  better, 
but  better  is  a  stone  couch  with  liberty 
than  a  bed  of  down  with  captivity.  Don't 
be  worried  or  frightened.  If  there  is  any 
danger,  I'll  sound  the  alarm  in  Zion  and 
get  you  off"  in  time." 

The  lady  murmured  some  inarticulate 
words,  and  the  priest  then  left  her  and 
went  outside.  He  there  spent  some  little 
time  in  gathering  some  brush  for  himself, 
which  he  spread  upon  the  grass,  under  the 


34 


A  CASTLE  IX  SPAIN. 


I  I-' 


castle  wnll ;  nncr  wliidijic  scatiMl  liimsclf 
iilinn  it,  and  piillin;^  out  his  pipe,  he  llllcd 
it  and  l)(';,'an  to  sinoUe. 

llithfi'to  1k!  had  Ijufu  too  niiicli  jji-coct'II- 
picd  to  pay  any  very  close  attention  to  tiie 
world  uround  ;  hut  now,  as  he  sat  there,  he 
)>ecanie  aware  of  sounds  whit'h  arose  ap- 
])urently  Ironi  the  interior  of  tlie  fjreat  cas- 
tle on  tlie  other  siile  of  the  diasni.  The 
sounds  tiid  not  slartle  him  in  the  h'ast, 
however,  and  he  was  evidently  jjrepared  tor 
somcthiny  oi"  tiiis  sort.  Uetween  tliis  tower 
and  tiie  <,'reat  castle  there  intervened  the 
deep  chasm;  and  though  no  doul)l  the  two 
structures  had  once  been  counected,yet  all 
connedion  had  lonj^  since  been  destroyed, 
and  now  there  was  no  visil.ile  way  of  pass- 
ing,' from  the  one  to  the  other.  The  priest, 
therefore,  felt  as  secure  as  thout;h  he  M-(;re 
miles  away,  and  listened  serenely  to  the 
noises. 

There  came  to  bis  cars  sounds  of  sinfrlnr;, 
and  huij^diter,  and  revelry,  with  shouts  and 
cries  that  ran<;  out  upon  the  air  of  night. 
There  seemed  to  be  no  small  stir  in  the 
castle, as  though  a  multitude  liad  gathered 
there,  and  had  given  themselves  up  secure- 
ly to  general  merriment.  But  all  f'is  trou- 
bled not  the  priest  one  whit,  for  he  calmly 
tiuished  his  pipe,  and  then,  laying  it  down, 
he  disposed  his  limbs  in  a  comfortable  po- 
sition, still  keeping  a  sitting  posture,  and 
in  this  attitude  ho  fell  asleep  and  slcj)t  the 
sleep  of  the  just. 

Veiy  early  on  the  following  morning  our 
good  priest  open('(l  his  eyes,  and  the  first 
object  that  they  rested  upon  was  the  lady, 
who  stood  there  full  before  liim,  and  greet- 
ed him  with  a  gentle  smile. 

The  priest  had  not  seen  her  very  well  on 
the  previous  evening,  and  now  as  he  saw 
her  face  in  full  daylight,  it  seemed  different 
from  that  which  had  met  his  view  under 
the  moonI)eams.  The  lady  was  of  slender 
form,  a,  trifle  over  the  middle  height,  and 
of  marked  dignity  of  bearing.  Her  face 
was  perfectly  beautiful  in  the  outline  of  its 
features,  but  this  was  as  nothing  wlicu  com- 
pared with  the  refined  and  exquisite  grace, 
the  perfect  breeding,  the  quick  intelligence, 
and  the  womanly  tenderness  that  were  all 
expressed  in  tliose  noble  lineaments.  It 
was  a  face  full  of  calm  self-possession,  and 
gave  indications  of  a  great  and  gracious  na- 
ture, which  could  be  at  once  loving  and 
brave,  and  tender  and  true.  Ilcr  liair, 
which  was  very  luxuriant,  was  closely  bound 
up  in  dark  auburn  masses ;  her  lips  were 


full  of  sweet  sensitiveness;  and  thus  si 
stood  looking  at  him  with  dark  hazel  evi 
that  seenu'<l  to  glow  with  feeling  and  intc! 
ligenee,  till  the  good  priest  thought  tliv 
never  in  all  his  life  had  he  seen  anythin. 
half  so  fair.  In  lliet,s()  overcome  was!, 
that  he  sat  staring  at  he*  for  some  tiiii 
without  one  word,  and  without  giving  an 
response  whatever  to  the  pleasant  words  i: 
greeting  which  slu'  spoke. 

"I'm  very  sorry  indeed,"  wd  slu;,  as  tl, 
priest  still  stared  in  silence  at  lier,  "tlini; 
was  siu'h  a  trouble  to  you,  after  all  your- 
your  kindness;  but  the  fact  is,  I  was  ^ 
wretclu'dly  fatigued  that  I  was  scarcely  r 
sponsilile  for  my  actions.  It  was  too  selli- 
in  me;  but  now  I  mean  to  make  anieml 
and  help  you  in  every  jxissible  way.  Woiil 
you  like  mo  to  do  anything  '>  8ha'n't  I  i; 
breakfast  V 

8he  spoke  these  words  with  a  smile,; 
which,  however,  there  Avas  not  a  little  s:i 
ness.  There  was  nothing  in  the  avoi 
themselves  beyond  that  painful  consider, 
tion  for  others  and  forgetfulness  of  r 
which  the  priest  had  observed  iii  her  t! 
night  before  ;  but  the  voice  was  u  woiiili 
ful  one — a  round,  full  contralto,  yet  soft  ai: 
low,  with  i>.  certain  mysteriously  treinuli) 
undertone  that  fell  with  a  thrill  upon  L 
car. 

The  priest  started  up. 

"  Breakfast !"  said  he,  with  a  short  lau;.' 
"  That  is  the  very  thing  I  was  thinking 
myself.     I  consider  that  an  all-importa; 
subject." 

"  It  is  certainly  a  serious  matter,"  sa^ 
she. 

"  And  you  propose  to  get  it  for  me  ?" 

"  Yes,"  said  she,  with  a  faint  smile,  "  i; 
can." 

"I  really  wish  you  would,"  continued  t^ 
priest,  "  for  it  would  save  me  from  a  gn 
responsibility ;  for  if  you  don't  get  it  : 
me,  hang  me  if  I  know  where  I  can  get  a; 
for  myself." 

"  What  do  you  mean  ?"  said  she.  "  II;. 
we  nothing  to  eat  ?" 

"  Well,  not  so  bad  as  that.  I  liave  a ' 
of  a  sandwicli,  I  believe,  and  you  may  li;; 
it." 

With  this  lie  produced  from  his  pockc: 
tin  sandwi  cli  case  and  offered  it  to  her. 

She  refused. 

"  If  that  is  the  last  that  you  have,"  s 
she,  "I  can  wait." 

'•  But  you  must  eat  it,  so  as  to  get  h.. 
your  strength." 


yr. 
oul 

\v.: 


Ttl. 
lull. 

ft  ai; 
illln 
)nl: 


Iniig 
ortii: 

"  sa. 


7! 


3?" 

■  > 

r 

K 
V 

ledi 

asr> 

rr 

it  '. 

jcta; 

'II;. 


vc  a' 

ay  li5- 

(ocki' 
her. 


;et  ba;: 


h" 


;.m- 


A  CASTLE  IN  SPAIN. 


35 


"A'vl  what  will  you  do?" 

"(  lu  iiu  old  hand  at  fasting.  It's 
my  hubiiif.ss." 

"  As  priL'st,  I  suppose  ?"'  said  the  lady, 
■with  a  smile  that  was  brighter,  or  rather 
less  mouriiiul,  than  any  Avliicli  the  priest 
had  thus  far  seen  on  her  melancholy  face. 

"  Yes,  its  ])riest,''  said  the  other,  tlryly. 
•'And  now  will  you  take  it?" 

"Do  you  ever  think  about  yourself^" 
asked  the  lady,  in  a  low  voiee,  in  whieii  the 
thrill  was  more  percei)tible  than  usual. 

"About  myself?  Oh  yes,"  said  he;  '"I 
never  think  of  anything  else.  My  motto  is 
to  take  ciire  of  Number  One.  It's  only  for 
my  own  sake  that  I'm-anxious  for  you  to 
eat ;  but  if  you  Avon't  take  it  all,  why,  you'll 
have  to  be  content  with  half.  You  won't 
refuse  to  share  with  me  and  take  half  ^" 

'■  15y  no  means.  I  sha'n't  object  to  take 
the  half,  ii'you  choose." 

'•  \\'rll,"'  said  he,  "that's  fair;  so  let's  be- 
gin our  Ijreakfast.  AVould  you  mind  sitting 
on  that  tree  over  there  {" 

He  led  the  way  to  the  fallen  tree  already 

■faienti(nied,  and  tiie  two  seated  themselves. 

He  then  opened  the  tin  case  and  drew  forth 

a  i'rw  saiuhviches.     From  these  they  made 

•their  frugal  repast. 

"  You  must  cultivate  patience,"  said  the 
priest,  as  he  ate.  "  I  know  exactly  what's 
in  yoiu-  mind.  You  want  to  bo  olf.  Hut, 
according  to  tiie  proverb,  the  more  haste 
the  less  speed.  Tell  me — would  you  rather 
be  lure  <u'  in  the  hands  of  the  Carlists?" 

"  Here." 

"  Weil,  I'm  afridd  if  we  move  incautious- 
ly we  may  lie  seen  and  ca[)tured  by  the 
Carlists.  So  before  we  start  1  propose  to 
reeniinoitre.     Will  you  remain  here  ?" 

'■  I  will  do  whatever  you  direct." 

"  You  are  very  good  and  sensii)lc." 

"Thanks;  but  where  do  you  propose  to 
go." 

"  I'm  going  to  visit  the  casi'e  over  there." 

'•  The  castle  ?" 

"  Yes.  It  is  full  of  people.  That  they 
are  Carlists  I  haven't  a  doubt.  I  mean  to 
visit  them,  and  find  out  how  the  land  lies.'' 

"  Hut  the  danger  is  too  great,  is  it  not  ? 
May  they  not  detain  you  ?" 

"  I  must  run  the  risk  of  that." 

"  Was  it  your  intenticm  to  go  among  the 
Cuiists  before  you  met  me  ?" 

"Well,  not  exactly.  I  was  on  my  way, 
and  tiiat  way  might  have  led  among  them." 

"  .\  re  you  running  this  ri.sk  for  my  sake  ?" 

"  Well,  not  particularly,  although  I  have 


an  eye  tr  you  in  this  matter.  My  chief  aim 
is,  just  now,  to  get  something  for  dimier, 
and  after  that  to  tind  out  what  is  the  safest 
direction  for  us  to  take." 

The  huly  sat  in  thoughtful  silence  for 
some  time. 

"  I  am  afraid."'  said  she,  "  that  you  are 
incurring  a  terrible  risk.  You  are  iu)w  out 
of  da.iger ;  wliy  put  yourself  into  it  ?  Why 
may  we  not  tly  now,  or  to-night?  I  can 
fast  for  any  length  of  time." 

"  The  danger  is,"  said  the  priest,  "  that 
we  may  both  fall  into  the  hands  of  the  very 
men  we  wish  to  avoid." 

"  13ut  that  is  the  very  thing  yor.  arc  go- 
ing to  do." 

"I —    Oh,  I  can  go  alone  anywhere.'' 

"Ah,  there  it  isl"  said  the  lady,  bitterlj-. 
"  It  is  I  who  am  a  drag  on  you.  It  is  I  who 
am  getting  you  into  danger.  Yet  why  not 
leave  me?  Tell  me  where  the  road  is:  I 
will  go  back  alone.'' 

"  Oh,  well,"  said  the  priest,  with  his  usual 
short  laugh,  "as  for  that,  we  nuiy  talk  of  it 
again.  I'll  tell  you  presently.  It  may  come 
to  that,  but  I  hojjo  not.  I  am  going  to  that 
castle  all  the  same.  I've  been  there  before, 
and  without  harm  :  I  expect  to  come  back. 
But  suppose  I  do  not,  how  long  will  you 
wait  here  for  me  ?" 

"As  long  as  you  say." 

"  Twenty-t'our  lunirs  ?"' 

"Yes."  " 

"  Very  well.  I  do  not  think  they  will 
detain  me,  l)Ut  it  is  l)est  to  be  prepared. 
And  now,  by  way  of  preliminary,  I  will 
show  you  how  I  can  go  over  there.  Re- 
member, I  have  been  here  before,  and  have 
become  ac([uainted  with  some  of  the  secrets 
of  this  place.  If  you  should  be  in  danger, 
or  if  I  should  not  come  back,  you  will  be 
able  to  tly  by  the  way  which  I  will  now 
show  you." 

Th(^  jiriest  arose  and  entered  the  tower, 
followed  by  the  lady.  The  pavement  was 
of  stone :  part  of  it  was  open,  and  some 
ruinous  steps  led  into  a  cellar.  Here  they 
desceiifled.and  found  themselves  in  a  place 
which  had  been  excavated  from  the  rock 
wliich  formed  three  sides  of  the  place.  On 
the  fourth  was  a  wall,  in  which  wiis  a  wide 
gap  that  looked  out  upon  the  chasm.  It 
seemed  as  lh(Uigh  there  had  once  been  a 
bridge  at  this  point  leading  over  to  the 
castle. 

"  Here,"  .'iaiil  the  priest,  "if  you  look  out 
you  cannot  imagine  any  possii)ility  of  de- 
scent, but  if  you  examine  carefully  you  will 


^ 


36 


A  CASTLE  IN  SPAIN. 


t  fr 


:  '(- 


I  I' 


-11 1:, 

1  '  iii> 


pcrceivfi  a  narrow  ledge  among  the  shrub- 
bery. Go  out  on  tliis,  and  follow  it  along, 
and  you  -will  find  it  growing  wider  as  it 
goes  down.  It  will  take  you  all  the  way 
to  the  bottom  of  this  chasm,  and  there  you 
\. ill  fine,  stepping-stones  l)y  -whieh  to  cross 
the  brooK,  and  c.u  the  opposite  side  a  trail 
like  this,  which  will  lead  you  to  the  top  of 
the  ojiposite  ridge." 

"  I  tlon't  think  that  I  should  feel  inclined 
:o  try  it,"  said  the  lady;  "but  I  am  glad, 
all  the  same,  that  I  have  a  mode  of  retreat. 
It  makes  one  feel  less  desjjcrate."' 

"  Oh,  you  know,  I  hope  to  be  back  again." 

"But  what  shall  I  do  if  you  do  not  re- 
turn ?■'  said  the  lady. 

"That  is  wliat  troubles  me,"  said  the 
priest.  "  To  think  of  you  making  your  es- 
cape alone — " 

"  That  is  not  what  I  meant,"  said  the 
lady.  "  I  referred  to  my  own  self-reproach. 
If  you  ilo  not  come  back,  I  shall  feel  as 
though  your  blood  is  recpiired  at  my  hands." 

Tlie  priest  looked  at  her  and  gave  his 
short  laugh. 

"I  shouldn't  advise  you  to  come  after 
me  to  tlie  castle,"  said  he.  "  Your  chief 
dillicuUy  will  be  the  commissariat.  If  I 
do  not  come  Ijack  Ijeforc  twenty-four  hours, 
you  will  then  have  to  fly  for  yourself  In 
that  ease,  do  not  go  back  to  the  road  you 
were  on  before.  Do  not  go  to  the  castle. 
Take  this  path  and  go  down  to  the  bottom 
of  the  eiiasm,  and  up  the  other  side  tr  the 
top  of  the  ridge.  Keej)  under  trees  as  much 
as  possible.  Travel  due  south.  Ilea' 'en 
help  you  !     God  bless  you  !     Good-l)ye  '." 

He  looked  at  the  lady.  Her  eyes,  which 
were  iixed  on  him,  seemed  overllowing  with 
feeling;  but  whether  of  anxiety  for  him  or 
fear  for  herself  did  not  apjiear. 

"  You  seem  to  me  to  be  going  to  death," 
said  she,  in  a  low  voice,  "and  I  am  the 
cause !" 

"To  death  I"  said  tlie  priest,  Mith  his 
usual  laugli.  '' M'trituriis  te  snlutnt.  Par- 
don I— that's  Latin.  At  any  rate,  we  may 
as  well  shake  hands  over  it." 

He  h(  1(1  out  his  hand.  She  caught  it  in 
bofli  of  iiers. 

■  "fiod  protect  you!"  .she  murmured,  in  a 
low  voire,  with  (puvering  lips.  "I  shall  be 
in  despair  till  you  come  back.  I  shall  nev- 
er liavc  tlie  courage  to  %.  If  you  do  not 
conic  b!iek,I  shall  die  in  this  tower.'' 

"Chihl, '  said  the  priest,  in  a  sad,  sweet 
voire,  "you  are  too  despondent,  I  will 
come  back — do  not  fear,    Tiy  and  get  rid 


of  these  gloomy  tiioughts.    And  now,  one. 

luurc,  good-bye." 

He  i)ressed  her  hand  and  dei)arte(i 
j  through  the  gap.  He  then  began  his  dc- 
,  scent,  while  the  lady  stood  watehing  hiu, 

with  anxious  eyes  and  despairing  face  tiii 

he  had  jiassed  out  of  sight. 


CHAPTER  X. 

now  TUK  rniKST  be.uids  a  liu.n  in  nis  dk.n. 

TiiE  priest  walked  down  the  path  int 
the  chasm.  It  ran  along  a  ledge,  whieh  a; 
first  was  narrow,  and  quite  concealed  froi 
view  by  dense  masses  of  shrubbery,  whic: 
grew  all  down  the  slojiing  sides  of  tin 
abyss,  covering  the  rock  with  a  green  mai; 
tie,  and  giving  it  an  inviting  asjieet  n; 
richness  and  verdu.  e.  In  such  a  j)laee  v. 
one  could  have  suspected  the  existence  i 
even  the  possibility  of  any  pathway;  a;i 
this  one  must  have  been  made  with  no  li; 
tie  labor  and  skill,  in  the  ancient  diiv- 
when  fighting  bands  had  need  to  pass  ai. 
repass. 

I  After  a  few  paces  the  path  became  nior 
clearly  defined.  It  was  very  steep,  yet  ea-: 
enough  in  the  descent,  and  went  down  :; 

[  a  zigzag  direction  until  it  readied  the  ijo, 
torn  of  the  chasm.     Here  there  was  a  brooi 

;  whose  babbling  had  been  heard  from  abow 
In  winter  this  was  a  fierce  torrent,  but  iw 
it  was  reduced  to  a  slender  and  shallow 
stream.  In  its  bed  lay  great  Ijowlders  i: 
granite,  whieh  atl'orded  stepjiiiig-stoiu-  ; 
those  who  might  wish  to  pass,  and  coii 
be  used  at  any  time  except  when  the  waii 
was  swollen  Ijy  mountain  Hoods. 

After  traversing  these  the  priest  cauu' : 
the  other  side,  and  began  to  asceml  a  p:,; 
of  the  same  kind  as  that  by  whieh  he  li:, 

I  descended.     Here  he  climbed  about  ii/ 

j  way  u)).  and  then  paused.  At  this  \)u\'. 
there  were  two  paths,  one  of  which  seeiii' 

'  to  go  up  to  the  castle,  while  the  other  wn 

I  along  the  side  of  the  chasm.  The  lutu: 
he  chose,  and  along  this  he  went,  asccmi 
ing  very  gradually,  until  at  last  he  reaclu 
the  top  of  the  ridge  on  whieh  the  ea-tl 
was  situated. 

He  now  turned  and  directed  his  ^ti: 
straight  towaixl  the  castle,  which  he  s' 
reached.    At  the  gate  stood  some  ana 
tatterdemalions,  whom    tlie   priest   rm. 
nized  as  having  formed  part  of  the  '^x.. 
tliat  had  stopped  the  train  the  day  btl' 
Of  these  he  took  no  heed,  but  walkcil ' 


A  CASTLE  IN  SPAIN. 


37 


bokllv  :ind  asked  to  sec  their  captain.  One 
of  tile  guards  Avcnt  witli  him,  and  after 
traversing  tlie  court-yard  tliey  came  to  the 
keep.  Here  tlie  Carlist  chief  was  seen  loll- 
ing on  a  stone  bench  outside,  and  smoking 
avillanous  cigar.  As  the  priest  ai)proacii- 
ed,  lie  started  to  his  feet  with  no  little  sur- 
prise on  his  face,  together  with  a  dark  and 
menacing  frown,  which  did  not  Ity  any 
means  augur  well  for  the  Ijold  adventurer. 

'•  Who  arc  you  V  he  asked,  (iercely. 
.    The   priest   in   return   eyed  tlie   Carlist 
from  head  to  foot,  and  then  said,  iu  ii  sharp, 
authoritative  tone, 

"  Your  name  and  rank?" 

At  this  singular  rejoinder  to  his  question 
the  Carlist  chief  looked  somewliat  amazed. 

"  My  name  ?''  said  he,  with  a  sneer. 
"Ni'vir  mind  what  it  is.  What  are  j'ou ? 
Who  arc  you?  What  the  devil  do  you 
mean  by  coming  here?" 

*'  Give  your  name  and  rank,"  persisted 
IJie  priest,  in  the  same  tone  as  before,  "  and 
lleware  how  you  trifle  with  one  who  may 
be  your  master.  Who  gave  you  authority 
to  occupy  this  post  V 

.'  "Master?— authority?"  cried  the  Carlist 
chief,  with  an  oath,  which  w.^.s  followed  by 
a  laugh.  "  Who  is  my  master  ?  I  never 
saw  liim.  Here,  you  fellows  1"  he  cried, 
to  some  of  his  gang  who  stood  near,  ''take 
tL  .  fi'llow  off — take  him  inside.  Let  me 
see^take  him  to  tlie  lov.er  dungeons,  and 
let  him  see  who  is  master  here!" 

At  this  a  score  of  stout  ruflians  came  for- 
ward to  obey  the  order.  But  the  priest  re- 
mained as  cool  as  before.  He  simply  drew 
forth  a  paper,  and  looking  round  upon  tiic 
ftfiians,  lie  said,  in  a  quiet  voice, 

''Keep  back, yoti  fellows,  and  take  care 
what  you  do!  I'm  the  CurC  of  Santa 
6ru/." 

At  that  fonnidaljle  name  the  whole  band 
•topped  sliort,  mute  and  awe-struck  ;  for  it 
ites  no  common  name  which  he  had  thus 
•an(.unced.  It  was  a  name  wliich  alrcatly 
hud  been  trumpeteil  over  tlie  world,  and  in 
8|»ain  had  gained  a  baleful  renown — a  name 
which  belonged  to  one  who  was  known  as 
the  1  iglit  arm  of  Don  Carlos,  one  who  was 
IjBown  as  the  l)cau  ideal  of  tlic  Spanish 
(Ataracter,  surpassing  all  others  in  splendid 
•Udaiity  and  merciless  cruelty  ;  lavish  gen- 
erosity and  bitterest  hate;  magnificent  dar- 
fcg  and  narrowest  fanaticism.  At  once 
chivalrous  and  cruel,  jiious  and  pitiless, 
liravi'  and  bigoted,  meek  and  merciless,  the 
(|»rC  of  Santa  Cruz  had  embodied  in  him- 


self all  that  was  brightest  and  darkest  in 
the  Spanish  character,  and  his  name  had 
become  a  word  to  conjure  by — a  word  of 
power  like  that  of  Garibaldi  in  Italy,  Scha- 
myl  in  Circassia,  or  Stonewall  Jackson  in 
America.  And  tlius  when  these  rufllans 
heard  that  name  it  worked  upon  them  like 
a  spell,  and  they  stood  still,  awe-struck  and 
mute.  Even  the  Carlist  chief  was  compel- 
led to  own  its  power,  although,  periiaps,  he 
would  not  have  felt  by  any  means  inclined 
to  sulimit  ti  that  potent  spell  had  he  not 
seen  its  ettet;t  upon  his  followers. 

"  I  don't  bt  Ueve  it,"  he  growled. 

"  You  do  believe  it,"  said  the  priest, 
fiercely:  "you  know  it.  Besides,  I  hold 
here  the  mandate  of  the  King;"  and  he 
brandished  the  paper,  shouting  at  the  same 
time,  '•  Viva  el  Hey  !"  at  which  all  the  men 
caught  up  the  same  cry  and  shouted  in 
unison. 

The  priest  smiled  a  good-natured,  ami- 
able, forgiving  smile. 

'•After  all,"  said  he,  in  a  milder  voice, 
"  it  is  well  for  you  to  be  cautious.  I  ap- 
prove of  tiiis  rough  reception  :  it  is  soldier- 
like. It  shows  that  you  are  true  to  the 
King.  But  read  this.  Give  me  something 
to  cat  and  drink,  and  then  I  will  tell  you 
my  errand." 

With  these  words  he  handed  the  paper 
to  the  Carlist  chief,  who  took  it  somewhat 
sulkily,  and  read  as  follows: 

" Ilead-quarters,  Vera,  August  i3d,  1S73. 
"  To  all  officers  of  the  army,  and  to  all 
good  and  loyal  suhjeefs,  (jreeiing :  Receive  and 
respect  our  friend  and  lieutenant  the  Cure  of 
Siiiita.  Crm,  irho  hears  this,  and  is  engaged  in 
a  special  mission  in  our  service.     Carlos." 

On  reading  this  the  Carlist  chief  drew  a 
long  breath,  looked  around  ujwn  his  follow- 
ers elevated  his  eyebrows,  and  finally  turned 
to  the  priest. 

"Wiiat  do  you  want?"  he  asked,  in  no 
very  courteous  manner. 

"Nothing,"  said  the  priest.  "Not  one 
single  thing  from  you  but — breakfast.  Don't 
be  alarmed.  I  haven't  come  in  here  to  in- 
terfere with  you  at  all.  iMybusiness  is  else- 
where.    Do  you  understand  me  ?" 

The  priest  gave  him  a  glance  which  was 
meant  to  convey  more  than  the  words  ex- 
pressed. At  this  the  whole  manner  of  the 
Carlist  chief  underwent  a  change.  He  at 
once  dropped  all  his  sourness  and  gloom. 

"  Do  you  mean  it  ?"  he  asked,  eagerly. 


38 


A  CASTLE  IN  SPAIN. 


The  priest  nodded. 

"  Ceiliiiuly." 

"  Tlieu,"  cried  the  Carlist,  "  you're  right 
welcome,  iind  I  hope  you'll  not  mind  whiit's 
happened.  V\'e  have  to  be  cautious*,  you 
know,  and  suspicious." 

"  My  dear  friend,  I  assure  you  I  shouldn't 
have  troubleil  you  at  all,  only  I'm  starving.'' 

"  Then  I  swear  you  shall  have  the  best 
breuki'ast  in  all  Spain.  Come  in  ;  come  in. 
Come,  in  tiie  name  oi"  Heaven,  and  I'll  give 
you  a  breakfast  that  will  last  you  fora  week. 

With  these  words  the  Carlist  chief  led 
the  way  inside,  and  the  i)riest  followed. 

It  was  the  lower  story  of  the  central 
building,  or  keep,  ami  was  constructed,  in 
the  most  massive  manner,  out  of  vast  blocks 
of  rough-hewn  stone.  The  apartment  was 
about  lil'ty  feet  in  length,  twenty-live  in 
■width,  and  twelve  in  height.  On  either  side 
there  were  openings  into  chambers  or  jias- 
■age-ways.  The  roof  was  vaulted,  and  at 
the  farther  end  of  the  apartment  there  was 
ft  stairway  constructed  of  the  same  Cyclo- 
pean stones  as  the  rest  of  tiie  editiee.  All 
the  stone-work  here  visible  had  the  same 
ponderous  character,  and  seemed  formed  to 
last  for  many  centuries  to  come. 

Around  the  sides  of  this  lower  liall  were 
suspended  arms  and  accoutrements.  There 
were  also  rude  massive  l.icnches,  upon  which 
were  ilung  rugs  and  blankets.  Here  and 
there  were  little  groups,  not  only  of  men,  but 
also  of  women  and  cliildren.  On  the  left  side 
there  was  an  enormous  chimney,  wliieh  was 
large  enough  for  a  separate  chamber.  In 
this  a  lire  was  burning,  and  a  woman  was 
attending  to  the  cooking  of  a  savory  stew. 
An  aromatic  smell  of  coffee  was  diffusing 
itself  through  the  atmosphere ;  and  this 
was  surrounded  and  intermingled  with  the 
stronger  and  ranker,  though  less  pungent, 
odors  of  the  stew  aforesaid. 

The  priest  flung  himself  carelessly  into  a 
scat  near  a  massive  oaken  table,  and  the 
Carlist  chief  took  a  scat  beside  him.  The 
priest  questioned  the  chief  very  closely  as 
to  his  (h)ings,  and  the  disposition  of  ins 
people  through  the  country,  while  tlie  chief 
surveyed  tlie  priest  furtively  and  cautiously. 

At  last  he  said,  abruptly, 

"  You  were  on  the  train  yesterday." 

"  I  was,"'  replied  tlie  priest,  coolly. 

"Why  did  you  not  tell  me  who  you 
were  T 

"  What  a  question  to  ask !"  said  the  priest. 
"Don't  you  understand?  When  /am  out 
I  don't  want  any  one  to  know  or  suspect. 


I  did  not  choose  to  tell  even  you.     Win 
should  I  ?     I  didn't  know  you." 

"  But  you  lost  your  purse,"  said  the  chic: 
in  rather  a  humble  voice. 

"  And  was  there  much  iu  it  ?"  asked  tli 
priest. 

The  chief  laughed. 

lireakfast  now  followed,  and  of  this  tli 
priest  partook  heartily.  Tlien  he  startc, 
up. 

"  I  must  make  haste,"  said  he,  "  and  cm. 
tinue  my  journey;  but  as  I  am  going  iiit 
out-of-the-way  places,  I  shall  have  to  :i-:; 
you  for  some  supplies." 

This  re(|uest  was  very  cheerfully  grantf ' 
loaves  and  cold  meats  being  furnished  IVoi. 
the  Carlist  larder.  Those  the  i)riest  put  int 
a  wallet,  and  thus  equipped,  he  was  reail; 
for  the  march. 

"yl^7w»,"said  he,  "noble  captain,  till  v, 
meet  again." 

"  J(/io*,"  said  the  chief 

The  priest  then  shook  hands  with  lii^ 
entertainer  and  turned  away.  Leaving  U; 
castle,  he  walked  down  the  slope  for  son, 
distance,  until  at  length  he  reached  tl, 
skirts  of  the  forest.  Turning  round  hri. 
lie  stood  looking  back  cautiously,  till  h 
felt  convinced  that  he  had  not  been  l',i'; 
lowed,  and  was  not  oljservcd.  Ho  now 
plunged  into  the  forest,  and  worked  Im 
way  along  until  he  came  to  the  chasm  luii': 
found  the  path  before  mentioned.  Dowr. 
this  he  weut  on  his  way  back  to  the  towtr. 


CHArTEU  XL 

HOW    TUK     FIUST     PRIKST    VAXISHKS,  AND     ANOTIIi:; 
riUKST    Ari'EAUS    ITON    THK    SCKNK. 

As  the  priest  emerged  from  the  bnisli- 
wood  at  the  top  of  the  path,  he  suddenly 
found  himself  face  to  face  with  the  hn'v 
She  had  come  through  the  opening,  ani 
was  standing  outsitle  waiting  there,  breath- 
less, her  hands  clasped,  and  her  eyes  set  in 
a  fixed  and  eager  gaze  of  vigilant  outlook  £ 
and  of  terrified  apprehension.  As  she  rec- 
ognized the  priest,  her  whole  expressini; 
changed ;  her  face  flushed,  her  eyes  grcv; 
moist  with  tears  of  joy.  her  lips  qnivereil. 

"Oh, thank  God  l"  thank  God  !"  .she  eric! 
"  Oh,  how  glad  I  am  !" 

The  priest  stood  and  looked  at  her  in  i^l- 
lence,  although  there  was  certainly  every 
occasicm  for  saying  something.  Finally  In 
held  out  his  hand,  and  she  took  it  in  liii- 
which  were  cold  as  ice,  and  tremulous. 


"  i'm    TIIK    (IKK    OK    SANTA     CKl  /..' 


m 


A  CASTLE  IN  SPAIN. 


39 


"  Poor  child !"  said  the  priest,  "  you  have 
been  too  excited.  But  were  you  not  afraid 
that  it  might  be  some  one  else  ?"' 

"  Yes,"'  said  she ;  "  so  afraid  that  I  lost 
all  streiigtli  and  could  not  get  hack.  I 
thought  I  heard  something  like  that  little 
short  laugh  of  yours  that  you  give,  but 
ther.  it  seemed  imagination.  So  I  waited, 
and  if  it  IkuI  been  an  enemy  he  would  have 
caught  mc.  But  I  was  right,  after  all,"  she 
ended,  joyously.  "  It  was  your  laugh— and 
you." 

Again  the  priest  stood  in  silence  looking 
at  hi'r. 

"Il's  worth  going  over  there,"  said  he  at 
last,  '•  to  make  a  fellow-creature  happy  by 
coming  back." 

"  Oh  no,"  she  said, "  not  for  tliat.  Noth- 
ing can  compensate  for  the  frightful,  the 
terriljle  anxiety— nothing.  But  I  will  say 
no  more.  I  am  ready  now  for  any  fatigue 
or  peril.     i\Iy  worst  fear  is  over." 

♦M)li,it's  all  very  well  to  be  glad  to  see 
me,"  said  the  priest,  with  that  short  laugh 
to  wliich  the  lady  had  referred,  "  but  that's 
nothing  to  the  gladness  you'll  feel  when 
you  see  what  I've  brought  back  M'ith  me. 
You  just  wait  and  see — that's  all !'' 

With  these  words  he  ascended  into  the 
tower  througli  the  gap,  and  assisteil  tiie 
lady  after  him.  They  then  went  up  the 
broken  stairway,  and  out  into  the  open  air 
to  the  fallen  tree  where  they  had  taken 
their  l>reakfast.  Upon  this  he  seated  him- 
self, and  the  lady  did  the  same,  lie  now 
opened  the  wallet,  and  distributed  to  her 
some  of  his  stock  of  provisions,  pointing 
out  to  her  with  an  air  of  triumph  the  fact 
that  they  had  enough  to  last  them  for  a 
■week.  The  lady  said  but  little  and  ate 
but  little;  the  priest,  for  his  part,  ate  less; 
so  the  breakfast  was  soon  despatched;  af- 
ter which  the  priest  loaded  his  pipe  and 
smoked  the  smoke  of  peace. 

The  priest,  as  he  smoked,  occasional- 
ly threw  a  furtive  glance  at  the  lady, 
who  now  sat  absorbed  in  her  own  medi- 
tations. 

"I  propose  to  ask  you  a  few  questions," 
said  the  priest,  "  merely  for  the  sake  of 
conversation,  and  you  needn't  answer  un- 
less you  like.  In  the  first  place,  you 
haven't  been  long  in  Spain,  I  take  it?" 

**No,"  said  the  lady ;  "  only  a  few  days." 

*•  And  you  arc  on  your  wav  back  to  Eng- 
land r 

■fYc^R." 

^^Have  you  been  travelling  alone?" 


"  At  first  I  had  a  maid,  but  she  got  fright- 
ened and  left  me  at  Bayonne.  Since  then 
I  have  had  to  travel  alone." 

"You  mustn't  think  mc  too  inquisitive," 
said  the  priest.  "I  merely  wished  to  know 
in  a  general  way,  and  am  by  no  means  try- 
ing to  pry  into  your  afi'airs." 

He  spoke  in  a  careless  tone.  lie  was 
lolling  in  an  easy  attitude,  and  appeared 
to  be  enjoying  his  smoke  very  much.  Af- 
ter saying  these  words  ho  began  to  fuss 
with  his  pipe,  which  did  not  draw  well, 
hunnning  to  himself  at  the  same  time  some 
absurd  verses : 

"My  love  he  was  a  ilrapciV  clerk, 
He  came  to  see  mc  after  daiK  : 
Around  the  I'aik  we  used  to  i-lray 
To  hear  the  lilj -white  baudsmeu  play. 

CiioRi'B  OF  Db.vpku'b  C'lf.kkb. 

Hark  !  from  the  tombs  a  doleful  souud, 
Jly  love  lied  buried  uudert;rouud  !'' 

A  faint  smile  came  over  the  lady's  face 
as  she  heard  these  nonsensical  words  from 
one  in  the  garb  of  a  jiriest.  Still,  she  re- 
flected that  while  it  was  his  voice  that  was 
singing,  his  mind  was  no  doubt  intent  on 
something  else. 

"By-the-bye,"  resumed  the  priest,  "as 
I'm  asking  questions,  I  should  like  to  ask 
one  more,    ilay  I  ?" 

"  :Most  certainly,"  said  the  lady.  "  What 
is  it  ?" 

"Well,  your  name,  you  know.  It's  awk- 
ward to  be  as  we  are.  Now,  if  I  were  shot, 
iind  wanted  you  to  help  me,  I  shouldn't 
know  what  to  call  you." 

The  lady  smiled. 

"  ^ly  name  is  Talbot,"  said  she. 

"Ah  — 3//'s.  Tall)ot,"  said  the  priest; 
"  thanks." 

"  Not  '  Sirs.'  "  said  the  lady,  again  smil- 
ing; "]\liss  Talbot.  My  full  name  is  Syd- 
ney Talbot." 

"Sydney  Talbot,"  repeated  the  priest. 
"Thanks.'  That's  all.  Everything  else  is 
told.  I  may  add,  however,  in  an  incident- 
al way,  that  my  name  is  Brooke." 

"Father  Brooke?"  said  the  lady,  inter- 
rogatively, with  a  furtive  smile  which  was 
perhaps  occasioned  by  tiie  incongruity  be- 
tween the  priest's  sacred  garb  and  some- 
what eccentric  manner. 

To  this  (piestion  the  reply  was  not  par- 
ticularly appr  ^jriate.  The  priest, or  Brooke, 
as  he  may  now  be  called,  looked  with  a 
smile  of  quiet  drollery  at  Miss  Talbot,  and 
then,  in  a  strange  whining  voice,  began  to 
drone  out  some  verses  of  a  song: 


40 


A  CASTLE  IN  SPAIN. 


"Olil  niucbeanl  wns  a  warrior  bold, 
lie  kept  liiH  wives  in  a  grent  stroiigliolil. 
One— Two— Tliree— Four— Five— Six— Seven— 
Tlicy  all  of  llicm  died  niid  wcut  to  Heaven. 
Old  li.  full  into  a  disninl  state, 
Aud  went  and  inanied  Number  Eight.  " 

"  "Well,"  he  rcsuiiiecl,  in  his  natural  voice, 
"  FiitluT  Brooke  isn't  bad  ;  Brotlicr  Brooke, 
however,  voulil  l)c  better;  but,  on  the 
whole,  simple  '  Hiookc'  is  the  best  of  all." 

"  Well,  now,  'Mv.  Brooke,"  asked  the  lady, 
anxiously,  "  what  arc  our  prospects  ?  Have 
you  found  out  anything  ?" 

"Oh  yes;  I've  had  a  conversation  with 
an  amiable  C'arlist  who  was  on  the  point 
of  blowing;'  my  brains  out,  and  was  onlj- 
prevented  by  the  unparalleletl  'cheek'  of 
the  unworthy  being  who  now  addresses 
you." 

"Did  you  really  incur  such  danger?" 
asked  ]Miss  Talbot,  in  unfeigned  anxiety. 

"Danger?  Oil,  a  trille  ;  but  a  miss  is  as 
good  as  a  mile.  I'm  here  now,  safe  and 
sound,  but  for  two  or  three  seconds  you 
ran  a  great  risk  of  making  your  journey 
alone.  However,  I  made  friends  with  them, 
aud  was  entertained  royally.  Now,  as  to 
escape.  I'm  sorry  to  say  that  tlie  country 
is  swarming  evci'ywhere  with  these  noble 
Carlists;  that  tiiere  is  no  such  thing  as 
law;  that  there  are  no  magistrates, no  po- 
lice, no  post-office,  no  telegraph,  no  railway 
trains,  no  newsjiapers,  and  no  taxes  except 
of  an  irregular  kind." 

"  That  is  very  bad,"  said  Miss  Talbot, 
slowly,  and  in  a  low,  anxious  voice. 

"  Oh  yes,"  said  Brooke,  "  but  it's  just  as 
I  feared. 

"  'Tliore  was  au  old  man  with  a  bcarj,' 

"  you  know, 

"  'Who  said,  "U  is  jnst  as  I  feared— 
'l"\vi)  owls  and  a  wren 
And  a  cocljand  a  heu 
Have  all  built  their  nests  in  my  beard."  ' 

''That's  mo.  I  told  you  so.  Still,  there's 
no  need  to  despair.  It's  quite  plain  that 
we  cannot  travel  by  day  without  being  dis- 
covered, so  we  shall  have  to  try  it  by  night. 
This  will  lie  all  the  better.  So  you  must 
spend  this  dtiy  in  meditation  and  prayer, 
and  also  in  laying  up  a  stock  of  bodily  and 
mental  strength.  To-night  we  set  forth, 
and  we  must  move  on  all  night  long.  May 
I  ask  if  there  is  any  place  in  particular  to 
which  you  prefer  going  ?" 

"  None  whatever.  I  must  le.ive  myself 
altogether  to  you." 

"  So  I  suppose,''  said  Brooke. 


"  But  is  there  no  danger  in  this  place,  31,  i 
Brooke  ?"  i 

"  Danger  ?    None  whatever.    I  can't  t\    • 
l)lain  to  you  how  completely  this  is  out  - 
the  way  of  every  one,  wliether  marauder  i     ' 
honest  man.     You  may  be  perfectly  at  yoi.    j 
ease  on  that  score.     Will  this  place  sat!.-; 
your'  I 

"Perfectly.  But  I  should  like  very  nii-.t  i 
to  tell  you,  Mr.  Brooke,  how  grateful  I  lu  o 
for  all  this  trouble  and — " 

"Ah,  now,  Miss  Talliot!"  cried  Brook 
averting  his  face,  and  holding  up  both  hiiiir 
"  don't — don't !     Let's  drop  all  that  sort 
thing.    It's  part  of  tlie  mockery  of  civili,'    " 
tion.    Words  generally  count  for  nothii,.   av 
Acts  arc  all  in  tdl.     AVIiat  I  ask  of  you  isi 
you  to  gather  up  your  strength  so  as  to      n 
able  to  foot  it  M'ith  me  and  net  break  dow; 
But  iirst  of  all,  I  must  say  I  very  nuicli  \\\-    ui 
you  had  some  costiune  a  little  less  mark. 
than  tliat  of  an  English  lady.     Now,  il'y    oi 
could  pass  as  a  peasant-girl,  or  an  old  wi/ 
an.  or  a   goatherd's  wife,  or  a  vender     8i( 
(piiick  medicines,  or  anything  humble  :::    he 
yet  national,  why — "  ly 

Miss   Talbot   shook    her   head    wiih    an 
mournful  smile,  and  looked  troubled.         dr 
"I've had  an  idea  all  day,"' said  Bnuii  he 
"  which  I  suppose  there's  no  great  harm    flu 
mentioning." 

"  What  ?"  pri 

"  What  do  you  say  to  disguising  your-    sui 

as  a  priest  ?"  erl 

'•  A  priest  ?    How  can  I  ?''  th( 

"Well,  with  a  dress  like  this  of  mi:  c^l 

It's  very  convenient — long,  ample,  hide-    l^ci 

erytiiing — just  the  thing,  in  fact.    Yom       ' 

slip  it  on  over  your  pi'esent  dress,  ami-  ^^* 

there  you  are,  transformed  into  a  i)riest.    ^o, 

hope  you're  not  proud."  ^M 

'■I'm  sure  I  should  be  only  too  glml   ^'"^ 

disguise  myself,  but  where  can  I  uet  ;.  Cf' 

dress  ?"  ^       put 

"  Take  this  one."  } 

"  The  one  that  you  liave  ?"  P"' 

"  Yes."  o^^^ 

"  But  what  will  you  do  ?"  ^°": 

"  Do  without."  t"n 

'•  But  that  will  expose  you  to  danger.  ^^^ 

"  No  it  won't.     It  won't  make  the  sli^  ^*'^' 

est  difference.     I'm  only  wearing  tlii-   P*** 

tlic  sake  of  variety.     The  fact  is,  yoii  •  '^"™ 

I  found  I  was  growing  too  volatile,  :'i!    '**" 

I  assumed  a  priest's  dress,  in  the  ho])c  ; 

it  would   give  me   greater   sobrietv  ;  °®^ 

weight  of  character.     I've  been  keepir- 


up  for  three  days,  and  feel  a  little  tir 


,,;  the 


m 


A  CASTLE  IN  SPAIN. 


41 


it.  So  j-oii  may  Ikivc  it— a  tree  gift— brevi- 
ary and  all,  r<j)ccially  the  breviary.  Come 
— tlicre'H  a  fair  ollVr."' 

"I  really  cannot  make  out,"' said  Miss 
Talbot,  with  a  laugh,  "whether  you  are  in 
jest  or  earnest."' 

"Oh,  then  take  nio  in  earnest,"  said 
Brooke,  "and  aeeei)t  the  oiler.  You  sec, 
it's  your  only  chance  of  escai)e.  You  know 
oldBillyMagco— 

"  'Old  Hilly  Mnsfe  wore  a  flaxen  wii.', 
And  a  Ijcnrddld  liis  face  furioiiiid, 
V'or  llu!  bailie  came  raciiii;  aflcr  he 
With  a  bill  for  ilfiy  pound.' 

"So  what  do  you  say  to  gracefully  giving 
#1^  to  necessity  V 

"  If  you  really  think  that  you  will  be 
mnningno  risk — " 

"  No  more  than  I've  always  been  running 
oatil  three  days  ago." 

♦♦Well, I  shall  be  very  glad  indeed,  and 
only  too  much  obliged.'' 
,,..^1^  Thafs  an  uncommonly  sensible  deci- 
mta"  said  ]>rooke.  "  You  see,"  said  he,  as 
h^unbuttoned  the  priest's  robe,  "  I've  mere- 
ly been  wearing  tliis  over  my  usual  dress, 
and  you  can  do  the  same."  As  he  spoke  he 
drew  otf  the  robe.  "  You  can  slip  it  on," 
he  continued,  "  as  easy  as  wink,  and  you'll 
find  it  (|uite  large  enough  every  way." 

And  now  Brooke  stootl  divested  of  the 
priest's  dress,  revealing  himself  clothed  in  a 
suit  of  brown  tweed — hunting-coat,  knick-  | 
erbockers,  stockings,  laced  boots,  etc.      lie 
then  toiik  from  his  coat  pocket  a  travelling-  j 
cap  with  a  visor,  which  he  put  upon  his  j 
head.  j 

"You  can  have  the  priest's  hat  too,''  he  ' 
a^cd,  "  and —  JJut  no,  Ijy  .Jove  !  I  won't— 
no, I  vion't  let  you  have  the  spectacles.  You 
might  wear  them  in  case  of  need,  tiiough, 
fiSt'they're  only  plain  glass.  But  hang  it !  I 
c»-*-'t — I  can't,  and  you  slni'n't.  Only  fancy 
putting  spectacles  on  the  angel  Gidjriel !" 

Meanwhile  Miss  Talbot  had  taken  the 
priest's  robe  and  had  thrown  it  over  her 
own  tlress.    The  clerical  frock  was  of  cloth, 
long  enough  to  reach  to  her  feet,  and  but- 
toned  all   the  way  from  her  chin  down. 
•  Around  the  neck  was  a  cape,  which  de- 
scended  half-way   to  the  knees.      As  she 
paased   her  arms  through  the  sleeves  she 
.  remarked  that  it  would  tit  her  admiral)ly; 
;a4  then  taking  the  hat,  she  retired  inside 
thfttower,  so  as  to  adjust  the  outlines  of  her 
new  ( ostui^e  in  a  more  satisfactory  manner 
thj||i  was  possible  before  a  spectator.     At 
1  th#door  of  the  tower  she  turned. 


"  One  thing  will  be  against  me,"  said  she. 
"What  shall  I  do  iibout  it i" 

"What  is  that  f 

"  Why,  my  hair.'' 

"  Ycnir  hair  I''  repeated  Brooke.  ''  Il'm — 
well,  that  is  ii  puzzle  I'' 

"It  will  interfere  with  anything  like  a 
real  disguise,  of  course." 

"  Well,  I  suppose  it  would.  In  which  case 
we  can  only  ho))e  not  to  come  near  enough 
to  the  enemy  to  bo  closely  inspected." 

"  Had  I  not  better  cut  it  oil'i"  .said  Miss 
Talbot. 

"  ^Vhat  I"  exclaimed  Brooke,  with  amaze- 
ment in  his  face. 

iliss  Talbot  repeated  her  (luestion. 

"Cut  oil"  your  hair  —  that  hairl"'  said 
Brooke.     "  What  a  horrible  idea !" 

"Will  you  cut  it '<" 

"  Never  r'  .said  Brooke,  fervently. 

"  Shall  I  ?" 

Brooke  drew  a  long  breath  and  looked 
earnestly  at  her. 

"Oh, don't  ask  me," said  he, at  lenglh,in 
a  dejected  tone.  "I'miloored!  It's  like 
throwing  overl)oard  a  cargo  of  gold,  and 
silver,  and  precious  stones  to  lighten  the 
ship.  Yea,  more  —  it's  like  the  Kussiau 
woman  who  threw  over  her  child  to  the 
wolves  to  make  possible  the  escape  of  the 
rest  of  the  family.  But  there  are  some  who 
would  prefer  to  be  eaten  by  wolves  rather 
than  saerilice  the  child." 

"  Well,''  said  ^liss  Talbot, "  your  compar- 
ison of  the  child  is  a  little  too  much  ;  but 
if  it  comes  to  throwing  the  treasure  over- 
board to  save  the  ship,  I  shall  not  hesitate 
a  moment.'' 

Brooke  made  no  reply,  and  Miss  Talbot 
went  into  the  tower. 

Brooke  then  resumed  his  scat,  and.  look- 
ing thoughtfully  into  vacancy,  sang  in  a 
low  voice  all  to  himself: 

"  oil,  n  princess  there  was  in  the  iinrtli  conntreo, 
And  her  hiiir  reached  down  below  her  knee  ; 
And  lovers  tliey  j;alhered  by  Ihonsaiuls  there, 
For  love  of  the  maid  with  the  golden  hair." 


CHAPTER  XII. 

now  nnooKE  and  taluot  takk  to  fmiiiit. 

BitooKE  was  roused  from  his  meditations 
by  a  light  footstep  close  beside  him. 


He 


looked  u[),  and  saw  Miss  Talbot  standing 
before  him  in  her  new  costume.  As  he 
looked  he  rose  to  his  feet  and  gazed  at  her 
fixedlv  without  a  word. 


42 


A  CASTLE  IN  SPAIN. 


Tlie  olinnrfp  wfis  wonderful. 

It  wiis  no  longer  ii  younj^  Imly  Uiut  he 
saw  —  it  was  n  young  priuHt.  The  broad 
hat  fame  down  low  upon  the  head,  and  l»e- 
neath  il  Uiere  was  a  lace  I'liU  of  sweet  di;^- 
nity  and  f^'entlc  grace — a  face  serene,  and 
noble,  and  pure.  Such  a  fact!  Uallaelle 
loved  lo  rej)ro(lucu  while  ])ortraying  the 
Angel  of  tile  Visitation,  where  youth,  and 
railiant  Iieatity,  and  unsullied  iturity,  and 
divinest  grace  all  appear  combined  in  one 
celestial  visage. 

Brooke  looked  for  some  time  with  the 
eame  intent  gaze, and  in  utter  silence. 

"  How  do  you  think  1  look?"  asked  Miss 
Talbot. 

"  Look  ?"  repeated  Brooke.  lie  hesitated 
as  if  at  a  loss,  and  then  went  on  in  a  May 
that  was  pc'.'uliarly  his  own.  "  JiOok  ^  Oil, 
fn"st-rate — very  well — very  well  indeed.  In 
fact,  I  had  no  idea  tliat  you  could  transform 
yourself  so  completely.  I  believe  I  was  on 
the  point  of  saying  something  about  a  vi- 
sion of  angels,  but  I'll  be  commoiii)lacc. 
All  I  can  say  is,  that  if  I  were  to  meet  such 
a  priest  in  real  life,  I'd  down  on  my  knees 
at  once,  make  a  confession,  and —  IS'o,  I 
woukln't ;  I'd  try  to  become  a  priest  my- 
self, so  as  to  be  always  somewhere  near 
him.  And  if  he  were  u  monk,  I'd  Join  the 
same  nKuiastery  ;  and  if  he  were  a  mission- 
ary, I'd  go  with  him  to  the  uttermost  ends 
of  the  e:u'th  ;  if  tiie  cannibals  ate  him  up, 
I'd  make  tlicm  eat  me  too;  and,  in  any 
event,  I  sjiould  feel  that  in  such  company 
I  should  be  nearer  heaven  than  anywhere 
else.  For,  you  see,  you've  always  lived  in 
a  serene  atmosphere,  where  you  have  known 
nothing  of  the  evil  of  the  world,  and  so 
your  face  has  on  it  the  stamp  of  Heaven  it- 
self, which  it  first  received,  and  which  lias 
never  been  elVaced.  So,  you  see,  yoif  re  just 
the  one  to  go  about  as  a  priest.  Oh,  it's  a 
great  advantage  to  be  as  you  are,  and  to 
have  that  angelic  face !  Like  the  old  man 
in  the  song : 

"  '  Oh,  lio  never  got  dnuik  ami  he  never  swore, 
Ami  lie  never  did  violate  the  lor; 
And  so  we  iMiried  lutn  undersiround, 
And  tlie  fiinornl-bell  did  merrily  sound 
Ding!    Dong!    Dell !'" 

Thus  far  Brooke  had  rattled  on  in  a 
strange,  dry  fashion  ;  but  suddenly  he  stop- 
ped, and  then  exclaimed, 

"  Good  Heavens  I" 

"What's  the  matter?"  asked  Miss  Tal- 
bot, who  had  seemed  nmcli  amused  at  all 
this  nonsense. 


''Wliv,  what  have  you  done  with  y,:. 
hair?"  ' 

3[iss  Talbot  raised  her  hat  from  her  In  ;i 
and  looked  at  him.     Again  he  looked  ;. 
Iii'r  ill  silence. 

Yes,  it  was  all  gone  !    Thut  glorious  liai: 
which  awhile  ago  had  been  folded  in  gn 
masses  round  her  head,  was  there  no  Ion. 
er.     She  had  cut  it  off !     It  was  short  iin 
like  the   hair  of  a  young  man,  and  hin 
loose  in  Ava"y  curls  over  her  forehead.     V 
so  far  from  her  apiiearaiiee  being  maii'ed  i 
disligured  by  such  a  mutilation,  the  rcMi 
wiis  actually  more  becoming  to  her  ns  -L 
stood    there    in   her    new   costume,     l'^ 
could  have  made  such  a  sacrifice  witii" 
serious  injury  to  their  iiiipearance;  liui  i 
this  case  there  was  merely  a  change  I'l. 
one  character  to  another,  anil  all  the  bi  i 
ty  and  all  the  subtle  fascination  still  i 
niained. 

"I    couldn't    have    believed     it,"'    sai 
Brooke,  at  length. 

'•What?" 

"Oh,  well— several  things.  In  the  lii 
place,  I  couldn't  have  believed  that  x 
living  girl  could  have  made  the  sacrili 
In  the  second  place,  I  couldn't  have  ! 
lieved  that  the  one  who  had  passed  tliroii. 
such  an  ordeal  could  come  forth  more  i: 
rious  than  ever.  ]5ut  the  sacrifice  was  i 
much.  However,  it's  (lone.  Nay — lu 
shake  your  gory  locks  at  me.  Thou  cai: 
not  .say  I  did  it.     But  where  is  it  all  ?"' 

"It'?  what?" 

"As  if  you  don't  know!  Why,  i 
treasure  that  you  threw  overlioiu'd  —  ■ 
child  that  you  tlung  to  the  wolves,  O  \l 
sian  mother !" 

"Oh,  you  mean  the  hair!  Why,  I  hi. 
in  there." 

She  pointed  carelessly  to  the  tower.    .' ' 
this  Brooke  went  over  and  entered  it.    I 
saw  a  mass  of  hair  lying  there  on  the  f-l 
floor,  where  she  Inul  carelessly  tluowi) 
after  cutting  it  off.     This  he  gathered 
very  carefully  and   even  tenderly,  pii  k 
up  even  small  scattered  locks  of  it.     '1; 
he  rolled  it  all  up  into  the  smallest  yo'-^ 
ble  space,  after  wliich  he  bound  it  tight  J 
his  handkerchief  and  put  it  in  his  pocfc^ 
He  was.  as  usual,  singing  to  himself  siiati 
es  of  old  songs  which  expressed  nothiiiL'^ 
jiarticular : 

"  The  maiden  she  says  to  him,  pays  she, 
'  Another  man's  wife  I've  got  to  be ; 
So  go  thy  ways  ncross  the  sea, 
For  all  Is  over  ■with  yoa  nud  me.' " 


A  CASTLE  IN  SPAIN. 


4.'J 


■\Vliicli  words  had  certainly  no  piirticiiliir 
aj)l)liciiti<)U  to  present  cireiiinstiiiiees. 

When  lie  etiuie  out  atfuin.  Miss  Tulltot  was 
seated  on  tiie  tree  in  a  inetlitutive  mood. 

'•I  ^vil^^  just  I'iekiny  uj)  tiiu  luiir,"  said 
Broolve,  in  an  indillcrent  tone.  "If  we 
Avere  traeiied  here  and  |)ursued  it  migiit 
tell  tales,  and  it  would  tell  too  nnicli." 

••  oil,  liow  tliniiiilitli'SH  of  incl"  said  she. 
"  iJut  really  I  did  intend  to  ^o  baek  and 
throw  it  down  into  the  torrent.  You  aee, 
I  was  so  anxious  to  know  if  my  dist^uise 
was  ri;,dit,  that  I  hurried  out  at  onec  to 
show  you." 

"  Oil,  it's  all  the  same.  I've  disposed  of 
it  better  than  you  would  have  done," 

"I  shall  try  not  to  l>e  so  thoughtless 
ncrain." 

IJrooke  said  nothing,  but  seated  himself 
near  her  on  the  log. 

"  Tin  sorry  you  don't  smoke,"  said  he, 
ftfter  a  pause ;  "  but  I  hope  you  don't  ol)- 
jeet  to  my  taking  a  small  whilf  now  and 
then." 

"Oh  no,"  srud  ^ris,<5  Talbot.  "I  like  to 
/(jce  you  smoking." 

;'  "  Do  you  know,"  said  Brooke,  after  he 
had  again  tilled  and  lighted  lii.s  inevitable 
-  :iiijie— "do  you  know,  I  think  your  charac- 
ter is  almost  perfect." 
;i  "Why, because  I  don't  object  to  smok- 
ing V  asked  3Iiss  Talbot,  with  a  smile. 

"  Well,  I  take  that  as  one  of  the  many 

straws  which  show  how  the  wind  blows. 

But  do  you  really  mean  to  tell  me  that  you 

don't  regret  what  you  have  done  ?" 

'      •    "What,  with  my  hair?     What  a  ques- 

:      tion !      Regret  it  ?     Not  at  all.      It  will 

grow  again  —  in  time.     To  use  your  own 

'     ;^gure,  when  the  sailor  is  struggling  for  life 

Bg.iinst  the  storm,  he   doesn't  regret  the 

tri  'riire  that  he  has  flung  overboard  so  as 

to  lighten  the  ship.    And  do  you  think  that 

I  am  so  weak  as  to  hesitate  for  a  moment 

will  ii  your  safety  as  well  as  my  own  is  con- 

Cc iiumI  i     For,  you  see,  I  liave  to  remcm- 

b(  r  tiiat  while  I  am  with  you,  you  too  are 

in  danger.     So,  no  hesitation  is  possible. 

How  could  I  have  the  heart  to  ask  you 

fe>  help  me,  if  I  persisted  in  keeping  up 

!      any  kind  of  dress  that  might  endanger 

both  of  us?" 

Ihooke  made  no  reply,  but  sat  puffing 
out  great  clouds  of  smoke.  After  some 
lap-u  of  time  he  opened  his  mouth  to 
speak. 

'•  I  wish  you  had  heavier  boots,"  said  he. 

'■  Yes,"  said  Miss  Talbot,  "  my  boots  are 


my  weak  point.  But.  you  see,  I  never  an- 
ticipated a  walk  of  twenty  or  thirty  miles. 
However,  my  dress  is  long,  and  perhaps  my 
feel  will  not  be  noticed." 

"Oil,  it  isn't  the  fear  of  their  being  no- 
tieeil,  but  the  daiiycr  that  they  may  give 
way  altogether  in  our  rough  walk, anil  leave 
you  barefoot  among  tiie  rocks." 

"  Well,  if]  lind  thrni  giving  way,  I  shall 
wrap  rags  around  them  before  Ihey  go  to 
pieces  altogether." 

After  a  furtlier  silence  Brooke  spoke 
again. 

"There's  one  thing  more,"  said  he,  "that 
may  be  mentioned.  We  may  make  good 
our  esca})e  to-night,  as  1  hope,  but  then — 
wo  may  not.  To  provide  against  occur- 
rences of  all  sorts,  it's  as  well  to  adopt  cer- 
tain lixed  characters  and  act  them  out. 
You  are  u  priest — reinemlier  that ;  never 
forget  it.  You  have  that  breviary,  which 
you  will  do  well  to  look  at  from  time  to 
time.  There's  mighty  good  reading  in  that 
breviary,  though  I'm  sorry  to  say  I  never 
couUl  tind  it;  but  no  doubt  you'll  do  more 
justice  to  it  than  I  did,  especially  if  you  un- 
ilerstand  Latin,  which  I'm  afraid  you  don't. 
But,  you  see,  it  wou't  do  for  me  to  call  you 
'Miss  Talbot.'  We  might  be  eajitured  by 
fellows  who  understand  English,  and  they 
would  at  once  take  the  hint.  And  so  sup- 
pose I  drop  the  '  Miss,'  and  call  you  simplv 
'  Talbot  V  " 

"That's  a  very  good  suggestion,"  said 
3Iiss  Talbot.  "  The  name  will  be  my  own, 
and  familiar,  and  better  than  any  strange 
name  or  title  which  you  might  invent.  Oh 
j'os,  by  all  means  drop  the  'Miss.' " 

"You  will  understand,  of  course,"  said 
Brooke,  anxiously,  "  that  in  this  proposal 
there  is  no  disrespect,  no  attempt  at  undue 
familiarity,  no — " 

"  Surely,  surely,"  said  Miss  Talbot,  ear- 
nestly, "  it's  hardly  necessary  to  say  all  that. 
If  you  adopt  that  tone,  I  shall  have  to  begin 
and  tell  you  'now  dcejily  grateful  I  am,  how 
much  I  owe  you,  how  I  long  to  do  some- 
thing to — " 

"  Oh  !  well.  Come,  now  !  if  you  go  on  in 
that  way,  I  am  shut  up  at  once." 

He  relapsed  into  silence.  Alter  a  few 
minutes  lie  spoke  again. 

"  Talbot,"'  said  he,  in  a  strange  tone,  much 
softer  than  his  usual  voice. 

"  Well  ?''  said  Miss  Talbot,  gently. 

"  As  I  have  dropped  the  '  3Iiss,'  have  you 
any  objections  to  drop  the  '  Mister,'  and 
address   me   by  the   simple   and    uncou- 


44 


A  CASTLE  IX  SPAIN. 


-•f 


vt'utioiiul  name  of  '  Brooke  <'  You  poo, 
it's  viTy  impoitaut  for  us,  iu  our  (.'irciiui- 
Btnnct'H,  to  cultivnte  this  seuiuiiif^  fiimiliitri-  [ 
ty.  If  you  were  really  a  youiii<  priest,  luid 
I  were  really  your  iVleud  aud  travelliuj,'  com- 
panion, wo  should  iiddress  one  auothci  iu 
this  simple  fashion."' 

"  I  liavo  no  objection  whatever,"  f  aid 
Miss  Talttot,  "and  I  do  not  sou  why  you 
should  take  such  pains  to  explain.  It  is 
enou<;h  for  you  to  ask.  Whatever  you  say 
I  will  do." 

'•  Say  '  Brooke,'  then." 

"rookc,"  said  Miss  Talliot,  with  a  little 

.JSS. 

•'  And  now,  Talbot,  I  intend  to  use  your 
surname  only  in  speaking  to  you,  ami  I  hope 
that  you  will  do  the  same  with  me.  This 
is  merely  for  practice." 

"  Certainly,  Brooke." 

The  name  came  si  little  uwkwfirdly  at 
first,  but  after  a  little  further  conversation 
this  diliiculty  passed  away,  and  th  j  two  ad- 
dressed one  another  (piite  naturally  in  tliis 
simple  fashion.  And  now,  as  Brooke  lias 
chosen  this  name  for  Miss  Talbot  I  also  will 
drop  the  "  Miss,"  and  call  her  lieuccforth 
simply  "  Talbot." 

Brooke  made  Talbot  lie  down  all  the  rest 
'  +*  the  day,  so  as  to  slee)),  if  possible,  and,  at 
rate,  to  lay  up  a  good  stock  of  strength 
he  Ibrmidable  work  of  the  approaching 
1.  ^  .t-.  With  her  usual  oonsideratcness  and 
docility,  Talbot  obej-cd ;  ami  althougli  she 
did  not  sleep,  she  certainly  obtained  an 
amount  of  "ft  of  which  she  stood  in  great 
need. 

At  length  the  evening  came,  and  the  two 
ate  their  repast,  after  whicli  Brooke  secreted 
the  remainder  of  the  provisions  iu  the  tower 
by  way  of  precaution.  It  was  not  necessa- 
ry, he  said,  to  carry  that  load,  and  if  they 
were  forced  to  return  it  would  be  there  for 
their  use. 

They  started  a  little  after  sunset.  An 
hour's  walk  brought  them  to  the  road,  at 
tlic  spot  where  they  had  first  mot,  after 
which  tliey  turned  toward  the  placo  where 
Brooke  had  left  the  train  on  the  previous 
day.  Their  pace  ^\^^c:  n  moderate  one,  for 
the  whole  niglit  was  before  tliom,  and  Brooke 
was  anxious  to  save  Talbot's  scrength  as 
much  as  possible. 

For  about  an  hour  mere  they  walked 
along,  until  they  came  to  where  the  coun- 
try was  more  open.  The  moon  was  cliin- 
ing  brightly,  and  thus  far  there  had  been 
no  signs  of  life.    But  at  this  point  there 


came  up  sounds  from  the  road  before  tin  ; 
which  were  not  a  little  alarming.     Broni 
laid  liimself  upon  the  ground,  and  listei. 
for  some  time. 

"  People    are    approaching,"    said    1. 
"There  is  quite  a  largo  crowd.    They  iw 
be  Carlists.     It  will  be  dangerous  for  u-  ■ 
go  on  any  farther.     It  will  be   better  \ 
hitle  here  until  they  j)ass." 

"  Very  well,"  said  Talbot.  "  I  ([uite  olt 
with  you.    I  should  iiate  to  go  back  again. 

There  was  on  tlieir  riglit,  not  far  iVoi. 
the  road,  an  old  windmill,  which  stood  upi 
a  gently  rising  ground,  and  was  quite  a  (  n; 
spicuous  object.     This  caught  the  eye  i; 
Brooke  as  he  looked  all  around. 

"There,"  said  he,  "is  the  place  for 
These  fellows  seem  to   be  on  the  maii 
They  will  soon  pass  by  this  and  be  goi; 
Let  us  hide  in  the  old  mill." 

Talbot  at  once  assented.    They  then  li : 
the  road  and  crossed  the  ilelds.    In  a  sin : 
time  they  reached  the  mill.    It  was  desi  i 
ed.and  the  machinery  was  out  of  order,  I 
otherwise  it  was  in  good  preservation.    TL 
door  was  open,  and  they  entered.     Ilavi;;. 
once  obtained  this  concealment,  they  sti 
in  the  door-way  anxiously  watching.     .; 
length  they  saw  a  crowd  of  men  come  i 
along  the  road,  and  these  they  rcgari 
with  quick-beating  hearts. 

"  Brooke,"  said  Talbot,  in  a  whisper. 

"What?" 

"What  shall  wc  do  if  they  come  here , 

"That's  a  solemn  question,"  said  Brook,, 
"Wo  ought  to  have  somethmg  to  full  jjan 
on.     Wait." 

He  went  away  for  a  few  minutes,  ;ii 
then  returned.     As  he  came  back  to  ti. 
door  Talbot  pressed  his  arm  and  poiutt, 
Brooke  looked  out. 

To  his  horror  the  whole  band  had  st( 
ped,and  some  of  them  we.e  facing  to\v;i; 
the  mill  as  though  about   o  ajiproach  it. 

"What  a  mistake  we've  made!''  t.; 
Brooke. 

"They're  coming  here!"  said  Talboi,: 
a  thrilling  whisper.  "What  can  we  li 
Can  wc  fly  ?" 

"  No,"  said  Brooke ;  "  they'll  see  us.  v; 
have  only  one  hope.  There's  a  ladder  In : 
and  we  can  climb  up  into  the  loft.    Com 

Taking  Talbot's  hand,  Brooke  led  Iu  r ; 
the  ladder,  and  they  climbed  up  into  . 
loft,  where  they  sat  listening. 

Talbot's  anticipation  was  too  true.    T' 
band  approached  the  mill,  and  soon  the  t 
fugitives  heard  them  all  around. 


A  CASTLE  IN  SPAIN. 


45 


CIIAITER  XIII. 

HOW  imOOKli  AND  r.Vl.lliir  MAKK  btVtlUL   NEW  AC- 
ULAlNTANt'ES. 

Kou  sonif  timu  tliu  two  liigitlvcs  renuiin- 
ed  inotioalcsa  luul  listencil.  Tlicre  seemud 
to  l)f  11  liiri,'e  nuinlH;r  of  men  Ixilow,  of  whom 
a  few  wen;  iiisiile  tlie  niill.lnil  tin;  i^rciiter 
part  rciniiinc'd  outside,  Tlicsu  ki-pt  up  an 
iac'L'ssiint  Jiibher;  Imt  it  was  of  ii  (.liscoril- 
t^t  cliaractLT,  some  taliviiig  al)out  getting 
reatly  a  Hiippcr,  sonu'  aljoiit  maiiing  a  firi.', 
BOnit!  al)out  forage,  wiiilu  at  tiniL's  ii  wonl 
would  lio  dropped  wliicli  seemed  to  intli- 
Cftte  tliat  tliey  were  in  pursuit  of  i"ugitives. 
Kothi'ig  moru  dclinitu  tium  tliis  could  be 
loanuMl. 

l!rool<e,  however,  liad  heen  gradually 
cree|)iiig  to  one  side  of  the  mill,  wlien^ 
there  was  ii  window,  while  Talhot  foUowetl 
as  noiselessly  as  possible,  until  they  both 
were  able  I'rom  their  concealment  to  look 
out  upcm  the  scene  below,  which  was  in  no 
Wfty  calculated  to  reassure  them.  They  saw 
ai  crowd  of  men,  about  a,  hundred  in  num- 
ber, who  looked  very  much  to  IJrooke  like 
the  train-stopi)ers  of  the  day  before.  Their 
arms  were  i)iled,  and  ihey  themselves  were 
(iis])irscd  about,  engaged  in  various  occu- 
pations; some  eating,  some  drinking,  some 
smoUing,  while  from  them  all  a  confused 
hnbliiii)  arose. 

Hall'  a  dozen  ill-looking  fellows  came  to- 
ward the  door  of  the  mill, 

'•A  lire!"'  said  one,    "Let's  burn  down 
the  old  mill.     There's  wood  enough  in  it." 
"  Ay,"  said  another,  "wood  enough  for  n, 
hum  i  red  tires." 
A  >hout  of  applause  greeted  this  propo- 
c(ijH,  but  the  hearers  above  felt  their  hearts 
^^ail  with  horror.    Talbot  laid  her  band 
ai  Jhooke's  arm.     Brooke,  to  reassure  her, 
t^Dk  her  hand  in  his  and  pressed  it  gently, 
|d  felt  it  cold  and  tremulous,    lie  drew 
nearer  to  him,  and  whispered  softly  in 
ear, 
•'"  Don't  be  alarmed.     At  the  worst,  we 
cwi  give  onrselves  up.     Trust  to  me." 
jTalbot  drew  a  long  breath,  and  made  a 
)erate  ellbrt  to  master  her  fears;  but 
scene  below  grew  more  and  more  terri- 
The  wild  shout  of  approbation  which 
lowed  the  proposal  to  burn  the  mill  was 
iht  up  by  one  after  another,  till  at  last 
whole  band  was  filled  with  that  one 
la.    A  dozen  men  rushed  inside,  and  be- 
to  hammer,  and  tear,  and  pull  at  the 
ring  and  other  parts  of  the  wood-work. 


while  others  buried  themselves  with  prepar- 
ing splints  with  wiiich  to  kiudli'  the  lire, 

"  Brooke,"  whisiiered  Talbot,  in  a  tremu- 
lous voice — "oh,  Brooke,  let  us  go  down," 

"Wait — not  yet,"  said  IJrooUe,  on  whoso 
brow  cold  drops  of  perspiration  were  al- 
ready standing.  "  Wait,  Let  u  <■  what 
they  will  do," 

Tall)ot  drew  back  with  a  shuddt  r. 

"The  mill  is  of  stone,"  said  Brooke. 
"They  can't  burn  it." 

"  15ut  all  the  inside  is  of  wood,"  said  Tal- 
bot— "  the  Uoors,  the  doors,  the  machinery, 
the  beams," 

Brooke  was  silent,  and  watched  the  prep- 
arations outside.  These  grew  more  and 
more  menacing.  A  great  pile  of  wood 
was  soon  collected,  which  grew  rapidly 
to  more  formidable  |)roportions.  If  theso 
prisoners  hoped  for  lite,  they  must  Icavo 
their  present  hiding-place,  ami  .soon,  too; 
for  soon  —  ah,  too  soon,  if  that  pile  were 
once  kindled  —  the  tlames  woulil  pour  in, 
and  l)urn  all  the  inner  wood-work,  even  if 
the  walls  were  of  stone. 

At  this  moment  a  man  came  hurrying 
forward  and  burst  in  among  the  crowd. 

"What's  the  meaning  of  all  this  non- 
sense C  he  asked,  in  a  stern  voice. 

"  Why,  we're  burning  the  mill,"  said  ono 
of  the  most  active  of  the  party, 

"  Fools !"  cried  the  other,  "  are  you  mad  ? 
It  will  attract  attention.  We  shall  be  seen 
— perhaps  attacked," 

"  Pooh !''  said  the  man,  impudently, 
"  what  of  that  ?    That's  all  the  better," 

The  other  laid  his  hand  upon  his  sword, 
and  looked  as  though  he  Avas  about  to  use 
it;  but  a  wild  outcry  burst  forth  from  all 
the  crowd,  and  with  an  impatient  gesture 
he  turned  away.  By  his  dress,  which  was 
the  only  uniform  visil)le,  and  also  by  his 
bearing,  he  seemed  to  be  the  captain  of 
the  band,  yet  his  authority  did  not  seem 
to  receive  any  very  strong  recognition. 
Still,  the  sight  of  this  uniform  was  of  itself 
encouraging  to  Brooke,  who  now  at  once 
decided  upon  the  course  which  he  should 
adopt.  There  was  no  longer  time  to  hesi- 
tate. Already  the  match  was  struck,  the 
next  moment  the  flame  would  bo  touched 
to  the  kindling,  and  the  fires  would  blaze  up. 

So  Brooke  called  in  a  loud  voice, 

"  Stop !  stop !  till  we  come  down  I" 

At  this  cry  they  all  looked  up  in  amaze- 
ment. The  match  dropped  from  the  hand 
of  the  man  who  held  it,  and  several  of  the 
men  sprang  to  their  arms. 


46 


A  CASTLE  IN  SPAIN. 


"  Who  goes  there  V  cried  the  one  who 
seemed  to  be  the  captiiin. 

"  Fricuds,"  siiid  Brooke ;  "  we'll  come 
down." 

Then  turning  to  Tulbot,  lie  whispered  : 

"Now,  Tulbot,  is  tlie  time  to  show  the 
stutt'  you're  miidc  of.  Courage,  my  boy! 
courage  !  liememljer,  Talbot,  you're  not 
a  girl  now — not  a  weak  girl,  but  you're  a 
boy — and  an  English  boy!  Kemembcr 
that,  my  lad,  lor  now  yuur  life  and  mine 
too  depend  upon  you !" 

"  Don't  fear  for  me,"  said  Talbot,  firmly. 

"  Good  I"  said  Brooke.  "  2so\v  follow  me, 
and  be  as  cool  as  a  clock,  even  if  you  feel 
the  muzzle  of  a  pistol  against  your  fore- 
hea  '  " 

"\\  ith  tlicsc  cheerful  words  Brooke  de- 
sceniled  and  Talbot  followetl.  The  huUler 
had  not  been  removed,  for  the  simple  rea- 
son tliat  it  consisted  of  slats  nailed  against 
two  of  tile  [)rincipal  beams,  too  solid  even 
for  Samson  himself  to  shake.  On  reaching 
the  lower  story  they  iiurried  out  at  onee, 
and  the  gang  stood  collected  togetlier 
awaiting  them — a  grim  and  grisly  throng. 
Among  them,  the  man  wlunn  Brooke  had 
taken  for  their  captain  was  now  their 
s])okesman. 

"  Who  arc  you  V  he  asked,  rudely,  after 
a  hasty  glance  at  each. 

Brooke  could  not  now  adopt  the  tone 
■which  had  liecu  so  effective  in  the  morn- 
ing, i'or  his  gown  was  oil',  and  he  could  no 
longer  bo  the  CurC  of  Santa  Cruz.  He 
kei)t  his  coolness,  however,  and  answered 
in  an  ofl'-hand  manner. 

"  Oh,  it's  all  right ;  we're  friends.  I'll 
show  you  our  papers." 

"All  right  ?"  said  the  otlier, with  a  laugh. 
"  That's  good  too !" 

At  this  ,nll  the  crowd  around  laughed 
jeeringly. 

"I  l)elong  to  the  good  cause,"  said 
Brooke.  "I'm  a  loyal  subject  of  His  Maj- 
esty.    Vim  cl  Roj .''' 

lie  expected  some  response  to  this  loyal 
sentiment,  but  the  actual  result  was  simply 
appalling.  The  captain  looked  at  him,  and 
thcii  at  Talliot,  with  a  cruel  stare. 

"  Ah  !"  said  he.  "I  thought  so.  Boys," 
lie  continued,  turning  to  his  men,  "  we're 
in  luck.  We'll  get  .something  out  of  these 
devils.  They're  part  of  the  band.  Tliey 
can  put  us  on  the  track." 

Tins  remark  Avas  greeted  with  a  shout  of 
applause. 

"Allow  mc  to  inform  you,  seBor,"  said 


the  captain  to  the  unfortunate  Brook 
"that  you  have  made  a  slight  inislak 
You  are  not  our  friends,  but  our  enemic 
We  are  not  Carlists,  but  Ue|)ul)licans. 
am  Cajitaiii  Lopez,  of  the  Fourteeiuh  lir. 
iment,  and  have  been  detailed  witli  tln- 
l)ravc  fellows  on  a  special  mission,  "^i^ 
are  able  to  give  us  useful  information  ;  In; 
if  you  refuse  to  give  it  you  shall  both  ' 
shot." 

In  spite  of  the  terrible  mistako  whicli  ! 
iiad  maile,  Brooke  kept  his  coolness  ai 
his  i)resence  of  mind  admirai)ly. 

"  I'm  very  glad  to  hear  it,"  said  he  t 
Lopez.  "  The  fact  is,  I  thouglit  you  wi : 
Carlists,  and  so  I  said  that  I  was  one  to.i- 
as  any  one  would  do.  But  I'm  not  a  (. :. 
list;  I'm  a  licpiiblican." 

Lopez,  at  this,  gave  utt'jrance  to  a  dc 
sive  laugh. 

"(^Ii  yes,"  lie  said,  "of  course,  yc:  .v 
anything  we  i-Iease.  And  if  we  s  .  t, 
turn  out,  after  all,  to  be  Carlists,  you  w>  . 
swear  tliat  you  are  a  Carlist  again.  no(  - 
it  strike  you,  senor,  that  you  arc  triii:: 
with  us?'' 

"  I  assure  you.  Captain  Lojiez,"  s ; 
Brooke,  "that  I'm  not  a  Carlist,for  I'm  :. 
a  Spaniard." 

"  You  may  not  be  a  Spaniard,  yet  still 
a  devotca  Cariist." 

"Yes,  but  I'm  not.  I  assure  j-ou  t! 
I'm  a  Itepulilican.  Shall  I  prove  it  to  \ 
and  to  ail  tliese  gentlemen  ?" 

"Try  it,"  sneered  Lopez. 

"I'm  an  American,"  said  Brooke. 

"An  American,"  repeated  Lopez,  bii: 
ly.    "Better  for  you  to  be  a  Cariist  li 
that.    Is  it  not  enough  for  you  Amcrit 
to  intermeddle  Avith  our  alVairs  in  Cuis 
and  help  our  reliels  there,  but  must  you  all 
come  to  help  our  rebels  here  i     But  coint-j 
what  is  your  business  here  ?     Let's  sec  wl 
new  pretence  you  have  to  ofl'cr." 

"  I  am  a  traveller." 

"Yes,  I  supjiosc  so,"  sneered  Loik| 
"And  who  is  this  other?'' 

"  He  is  a  young  priest." 

"  A  j'oung  priest  ?  Ah  1  Then,  fsofiJ 
let  mc  inform  you  that  as  Spaniards  tffl 
hate  all  Amei'icans,  and  as  Kcpublicau^ 
hate  all  priests.  Spain  has  had  too  iiuij 
of  l)oth.  Americans  arc  her  worst  cniiii:| 
outside  and  priests  inside.  Down  withi 
Americans  and  priests !" 

Tlic  echo  to  this  sentiment  came  in| 
shout  from  all  the  followers  of  Lopez, 

"  Down  witli  all  Americans  and  priestsl 


A  CASTLE  IN  SPAIN. 


47 


■\Vith  tliis  cry  a  luiiulrcil  fierce  faces  siir- 
loiuuled  them,  and  glared  at  tliem  with 
licry  eyes.  It  seemed  as  thougli  tlieir  last 
hour  had  come.  The  crowd  pressed  closer, 
aiul  c'laiuDred  for  tlieir  iinnu'diute  destruc 
tion.  The  only  tiling  that  hchl  tl  jm  back 
was  tlie  attitude  of  l}r.j()ke,  who  stood  \wr 
tVctly  cool  and  trantiui'  .vith  his  eyes  tixed 
on  Lopez,  a  good-naturec'  smile  oa  his  face, 
and  his  luiiids  carelessly  in  his  pockets. 
Close  beside  him  stood  Talbot,  pale,  it  'n 
true,  but  with  a  cjilni  exterior  that  showed 
not  one  trace  of  fear.  Brooke  tiid  not  see 
her,  and  did  not  venture  U")  look  at  her, 
hut  he  felt  that  she  was  as  firm  as  a  rock. 
Had  they  faltered  in  the  slightest  degree, 
the  storm  must  have  burst;  but  as  it  was, the 
(  aluuiess  of  these  two  disarmed  the  fury  of 
the  mob,  and  their  fierce  passion  died  away. 
"  Captain  Lopez,"  said  Brooke,  in  a  quiet 
and  friendly  tone.  "  you  may  have  reason  to 
:  hate  my  country,  but  I  assure  you  that  you 
have  absolutely  no  cause  for  comjihiint 
j  against  me  and  my  friend.  We  are  sim])le 
travellers  who  have  been  interrupted  on 
I  oin-  joiu'ney,  and  are  now  trying  to  get  to 
tlie  nearest  railway  station  so  as  to  resume 
I  it  as  soon  as  possiljle." 

'•  llow  did  you  get  here  ?"  asked  TiOpez. 
after  a  pause,  in  which  he  again  scrutinized 
severely  the  two  prisoners. 

Brooke   hail   antieijnii.'d  this   (piestion, 
land  had  made  up  his  mind  as  to  his  an- 
swer.    It  was  his  intention  to  identify  liim- 
I  self  with  Tall.tot,  and  sjieak  as  tliough  he 
jliad  all  along  been  travelling  with    "  the 
young  priest." 

"Our  train  stopped,"  said  he,  ''and  we 
i  tiiok  tiie  diligence  over  this  road  yesterday. 
nVe  were  stoj)pcd  again,  ca[)tured  and  rob- 
bed by  Carlists,  and  we  ha\e  escaped  from 
|tliem,and  are  now  trying  to  get  back." 
"  Was  your  train  stoppctl  by  Carlists?" 
"No;  the  diligence." 
'•Where  did  the  Carlists  go?" 
"  I  have  no  idea." 
"  Where  did  you  come  from  last  ?" 
'•  Barcelona." 

"  Where  are  you  going  now  V 
''To  England,"  sa'd  Brooke;  "and  final- 
jly."  he  adiled,  "  a' low  me  to  show  you  this, 
IMliieh  I  am  sure  will  establish  my  charae- 
|ter  in  your  eyes." 

With  these  won  i  he  drew  forth  a  pai)er 

'nd  handed  it  to      ijiez.     The  latter  took 

jt,  and  one  of  the  men  lighted  a  bit  of  wood 

Iwhich  served  ns  a  torch,  after  w  hicli  Lopez 

lead  the  following  : 


'•  Ufail-nuarterK,  Vitlaria,  May  lOlli,  IST.1. 
"IVii's  is  to  ctrtifij  that  tlic  hmrer  of  this 
is  an  Ameviatii  citizen  named  linleigh  Brooke, 
and  is  corirsjiondent  of  a  Xeir  Yoik  jonrnnl. 
He  has  ferniixsion  to  trar  rsc  our  lines  in  ]»ir- 
suit  of  his  bitsinos.  Concha." 

Lopez  :cad  it  over  a  second  time. 

"A  newspi'.per  correspondent!"  said  he. 

j  "  Il'm  !    That  means  a  spy.    lie  handed  it 

I  back  again  to  Brooke,  who  rcfjlaced  it  in 

i:is  pocket.    '•  Til  think  it  over,"  continued 

Lojjez.      "  I'll  examine  you  I)oth  to-morrow 

and  ins|)ect  your  papers.    I'm  too  tired  now. 

You  may  both  go  inside  again  where  you 

were  hi, ling  before.     AVe  won't  burn  you 

up.'' 

At  these  last  words  the  whole  gang  burst 
into  a  jeering  laugh  that  foreboded  .souie- 
tliing  so  horrible  that  the  stout  lieart  of 
Brooke  quailed  'vithin  him,  as,  followed  by 
Talbot,  he  once  more  entered  the  old  mill. 


ClIAl'TKr 


XIV, 

i:kks  to  eoNCK.vL  .\ 


I  HOW  Tilt:  ANXiors  iirs.-iKi.i 

I  TUKASl'UK. 

Tiiii  Uussell  party,  on  reaching  the  cas- 
tle, were  all  conducted  inside,  where  they 
found  themselves  in  an  arched  hall  which 
has  already  been  deserilied.  'I'raversing 
this,  they  ascended  the  massive  stairway  at 
the  end,  ami  came  to  another  large  hall  im^ 
mediately  aljove  the  lower  one.  This  had 
once  been  the  grand  banqueting  hall  of 
the  castle,  iuid  was  less  rough  and  severe  in 
its  appearance  than  other  parts;  fir  while 
the  walls  elsewhere  showed  the  unfinished 
fiices  of  the  rude  blocks  of  slone.  heii'  there 
was  an  etfort  after  something  like  ornament; 
yet  this  was  so  slight  that  even  here  the 
general  air  was  still  one  of  severe  ami  au- 
stere grandeur,  as  if  there  had  been  wrought 
out  in  this  .-tone-work  the  mind  of  the  stern 
Goth  who  letred  it,  who  held  it,  not  for  a 
home,  but  rather  for  a  fiirtress,  whence  he 
could  dominate  the  surrounding  country. 

If  Harry  had  cherished  any  hope  of  pro- 
longing his  aeciuaintance  with  Katie  he  was 
now  destined  to  bo  disappointed  ;  for  on 
reaching  this  upjier  hall  they  were  iid'ormed 
that  they  would  have  to  be  separated — the 
men  to  go  in  one  direction  and  the  wometi 
in  iinothL.'.  This  nrraiif  iient  was  ])artly 
for  the  comfort  of  both  arties,  but  still 
more  fi)r  their  safe-keeping,  since  escape 


"jSS^ 


48 


A  CASTLE  IN  SPAIN'. 


woiiM  tliiis  be  far  more  difficult.  Accord- 
ingly tlic  ladies  were  lakeii  away  by  some 
female  attendants;  wliilc  Kussell,  in  com- 
l)any  with  Harry,  was  taken  to  their  quar- 
ters on  the  ojjposite  side  of  tlie  great  iiall. 

Here  tliey  found  themselves  in  an  apart- 
ment wliich  was  very  long,  very  wide,  and 
very  lofty.  The  roof  was  arelied,  an  I  all 
the  stones  were  of  cycloi)ean  dimensions. 
At  one  end  there  was  an  inuneiise  tire])lace. 
On  either  side  there  were  narrow  windows, 
wliich  on  one  side  looked  down  en  the  front 
yard  inside  the  wall,  while  on  tlie  other  they 
commanded  a  view  of  one  of  the  inner  court- 
yards. Harry,  on  his  tirsi  entrance  into  the 
room,  walked  about  surveying  the  place, 
and  noting  these;  partieidars  l)y  the  lurid 
glow  of  the  torches. 

This  lirst  survey  assured  him  that,  as  far 
as  appearances  went,  there  was  se.ircely  any 
possibility  of  escape.  The  walls  were  too 
strong  to  be  penetrated  in  any  way,  and  the 
windows  were  too  narrow  for  any  one  to 
pass  throiigh.  In  fact,  they  were  slits  rath- 
er than  windows.  Jloreover,  even  if  it  had 
been  possible  for  any  one  to  pass  through 
the  windows,  the  ground  below  was  too  far 
away  to  be  reached  witlu)ut  some  means  of 
descent.  Finally,  there  were  the  armed  men 
outside,  and  the  extreme  wall,  which  was 
too  lofty  to  l)e  scaled.  On  the  whole,  the 
|)rospect  was  highly  unsatisfactory,  and 
Harry  turned  away  from  this  first  survey 
with  a  feeling  of  mild  dejection.  There 
was  scarcely  anything  in  the  room  which 
deserved  the  name  of  furniture.  In  one 
corner  there  was  a  rude  structure  with  straw 
mi  it,  which  was  intended  for  a  bed.  Op- 
posite this  there  was  a  ponderous  oaken 
bench,  and  upon  this  old  Russell  seated  him- 
self wearily.  Here  ho  sat,  and  as  Harry 
completed  his  survey  of  the  a])artmcnt,  his 
eyes  rested  upon  his  unfortunate  companion 
as  he  sat  t  here,  the  i)icturc  of  terror,  despond- 
ency, and  misery.  Harry  felt  an  invohim.  ry 
pity  for  the  man;  an<l  as  his  own  How  of 
spirits  was  unfailing,  he  set  himself  to  work 
to  try  and  cheer  him. 

"Well,"'  said  he, "this  is  rather  a  dismal 
place,  Kussell ;  but,  after  all,  it's  better  than 
being  put  in  a  vault  underground." 

"It's  pup-precious  kik-kik -cold," said 
Russ"11,  his  teeth  chattering,  ]iartly  from 
cold  and  pa''tly  from  terror.  "This  '11  t)ring 
on  an  attack  of  rheumatiz — that's  what  it's 
going  to  do.     Oh,  I  know  it  I" 

•■Well,  it  is  a  little  chilly,  that's  a  fact," 
said  Harry,  shrugging  his  shoulders.    "  It's 


a  pity  we  couldn't  use  that  fireplace.  Bui 
what  a  tremendous  fireplace  it  is  I  Why. 
it's  as  big  as  a  barn.  "VVhat  do  you  say  tn 
our  amusing  ourselves  by  starting  a  fire ; 
It  woukl  be  great  fun." 

"But  we've  gig- gig -got  no  fuel,"  said 
Kussell,  with  a  shiver. 

"FueH  Why,  let's  cut  up  that  biu 
bench." 

"What  with?" 

"Why,  with  my  pocket-knife,  of  course. 
We  could  whittle  enough  chips  otf  it  tn 
make  a  good  big  fire,  and  still  have  enougli 
left  fi)r  a  bench.  In  fiict,  we  could  gd 
en(nigh  fuel  oil"  that  ibr  a  dozen  fires 
Why,  man,  there  must  be  at  least  a  cord  of 
wood  in  that  bench.  Whiltling's  ratlu  r 
.slow  work,  it's  true,  but  in  a  })lace  likr 
this  it'll  be  an  occupation,  and  that's  some 
thing.  I'risoners  go  mad  unless  they  ]ia\( 
something  to  do;  and  so, just  to  .save  my- 
self from  madness,  I  mean  to  go  in  for  fml 
— unless  you  can  think  of  something  els( 
that's  better." 

Rattling  out  this  in  his  usual  lively  fash- 
ion, Harry  went  to  the  bench,  and  l)egan  ,i 
solen\n  examination  of  it,  with  a  view  to- 
ward whittling  it  up  into  firewood.  Bu^- 
sell  did  not  move,  but  regarded  Harry  willi 
the  same  silent  misery  in  his  face.  At  la>; 
he  spoke: 

"What  did -did -do  you  think  they'n 
a-going  to  did-did-do  f 

"Who  '."  asked  Harry. 

"  Why,  these  people— that  kik-kik-cap 
tured  us." 

"These  Carlists?  AVell,  I  dor.'t  know- 
seems  to  me  they  want  to  make  sonu 
money  out  of  us.'' 

"Why  dill  they  let  all  the  Spaniards  g.. 
and  kik-kik-capture  us?" 

Oh,  well,  they  think  as  -we're  Englisli 
v.e'll  j)robably  have  more  money  about  ii- 
than  their  own  countrymen,  and  be  sali : 
plunder  also." 

"Did-did-do  you  think  they'll  go  so  fn 
as  to  ])ip-pup-plmider  us?"  asked  Russell, 
in  a  voice  of  liorror. 

"  Haven't  a  doubt  of  it.'' 

"  Oh  Lord  1"  groaned  the  other. 

"What's  the  matter?" 

Russell  gave  a  fresh  groan. 

"This  kik  kik-cur.sed  kik-kik-couiitry I" 
lie  at  length  ejaculated. 

"  Oh,  well,"  said  Harry,  "  it  i.sn't  the  coun- 
try, it's  the  people.'' 

"Do  you  think  tlicy'rc  really  Kik-kik- 
Carlists  ?" 


51^ 


A  CASTLE  IN  SPAIN. 


49 


••  'iVcll,  yes.  I  tloii't  see  any  reason  wliy 
ilu'y  slioukln't  be.'" 

••  I  was  thinking  tlint  they  might  be  bub- 
btih-banditfi." 

••Well,  there  isn't  any  very  great  dlll'er- 
(  ncc  between  the  two,  so  far  as  we  are  con- 
ci'inctl." 

••  But  isn't  there  any  law  among  the  Kik- 
kik-Carlists  ?  Can't  we  appeal  to  Did-did- 
])<m  Carlos?'' 

'■  Oh  yes.  of  course — if  we  couhl  only  get 
;:t  liim,  and  if  he  could  only  get  at  us;  but 
these  two  thing.-:  are  just  what  can't  be 
(ioiie.  And  so  I'm  afraid  we'll  have  to 
make  up  our  minds  to  pay  the  piper." 

At  this  llussell  again  gave  a  heavy  groan. 

••  Don't  be  alarmed,"  said  Harry,  in  a 
t  Kitliing  tone.    "  We  can  beat  them  down." 

■•No,"'  moaned  Russell,  "we  can't  do 
anvthing.  And  I've  got  too  much  about 
me  altogether." 

'•You  haven't  carried  any  large  sum  of 
innncy  with  you,  surely?"  cried  Harry. 
'■  Why,  man,  you're  mad  !" 

"But  I  didn't  think  there'd  be  any  dan- 
ger on  the  railvay,"  said  Russell. 

"If  your  money  is  in  bills  of  exchange 
Tiiu'U  be  right  enough,"  said  Ilarrj-. 

RussfU  shook  his  head. 

"No,"  said  he,  ''it's  worse  than  that." 

"IIow?" 

"  .My  money  is  in  bub-bub-bonds — Span- 
i  U  l)ul)-bub-bonds." 

••  Bonds '.''  repeated  Harry, 

"  Yes,"  groaned  Russell—"  kik-kik-cou- 
]ion  bub-bub-bonds." 

"Coupon  l)onds!  Why,  man,  what  in 
lliaven's  name  are  you  doing  with  coupon 
liniuls  in  this  country  ?'' 

"  Why,  they're  Spanish  bonds,  and  I  was 
(  king  them  out  of  the  country  to  Eng- 

l;ll.|." 

"Whew I"  whistled  Harry.  "In  how 
luMch  V 

"Tliirty  thousand  pomidsl"  wailed  Rus- 
f-t  11,  iu  a  voice  of  despair. 

Another  prolonged  whistle  was  the  re- 
sult of  this  information. 

"  It's  no  use  making  it  a  secret  to  you,'' 
emtinucd  Russell.  "I'll  be  searched,  I 
Hiipposp,  and  the  bonds  '11  be  taken." 

"  I'll  tell  you  what  to  do,"  said  Harry : 
"  lit  mc  take  care  of  them." 

Russell  shook  his  head. 

•N-no;  you'll  be  searched  too.  They'll 
'"■  no  safer." 

'  Well,  then,  hide  them  in  this  room 
-  inewhcrc.'' 


"I  don't  know  where  to  hide  them," 
said  RussL'U,  dole  fully  ;  "  besides,  we  may 
be  taken  to  another  room  and  so  it's  no 
use  hiding  them  here.  I've  been  thinking 
of  sewing  them  up  inside  the  lining  of  my 
coat,  only  I  h.aven't  any  needle  and  thread 
to  sew  with.  Oh.  if  Mfs.  Russell  were  here ! 
I  didn't  think  of  this.  I'd  get  her  to  stitch 
them  inside  my  coat  to-niglit.  And  now 
I  don't  know  what  to  do.  If  it  weren't  for 
these  bonds  I  should  feel  safe  cnounh. 
But  the  amount  is  so  e-normous  !" 

"Are  they  registered  ?"' 

"  Oh  no.  I  don't  believe  they  register 
bonds  in  this  miserable  country,  or  do  any- 
thing but  steal  then),"  groaned  Russell. 
"I  suppose  they'll  ovcrhaid  us  all  to-mor- 
row." 

"  Very  likely." 

"  Can  you  think  of  any  way  by  which  I 
can  hide  these  bonds  ?" 

Harry  shook  liis  head.  At  the  same  mo- 
ment there  occurred  to  liim  what  Ashby 
had  told  him  about  certain  Spanish  bonds. 
If  Ashby  was  right,  then  this  must  be  the 
very  money  which  belonged  to  Katie,  and 
which,  according  to  Ashby,  Russell  was  try- 
ing to  get  hold  of  for  himself.  From  this 
point  of  view  it  suddenly  assumed  an  im- 
mense interest  iu  his  eyes,  and  drove  away 
the  tliouglit  of  every  other  thing.  Even 
the  tire  was  now  fi)rgotten,  and  the  bench 
was  not  desecrated  by  the  knife. 

"  See  h-,'re ;  I'll  tell  you  wluit  to  do,"  said 
Harry,  thoughtfully  and  earnestU".  "The 
very  worst  thing  that  you  can  do  is  to  car- 
ry all  that  money  about  with  you,  on  your 
own  person,  mind  that.  You'll  be  searched, 
of  course.  To  stitch  them  in  your  clothes 
is  absurd.  These  people  Avill  exa  linc  ev- 
ery square  inch  of  all  your  clothes,  inelud- 
ing  your  shirt-collar,  your  poeket-liandker- 
chief,  your  silk  hat,  and  your  boots.  They'd 
find  the  smallest  fragment  of  a  bit  of  paper, 
even  if  you  l..id  it  hidden  inside  your  boot- 
laces. Now,  I'll  tell  you  what  you'll  liave 
to  do.  You'll  have  to  get  rid  of  that  mon- 
ey of  yours." 

"Bul)-bub-bub-lmt  how?''  stammered 
Russell,  in  fresh  consternation. 

"  IIow  ?    Why,  hide  it.'' 

"Where?" 

"  Somewhere  about  here — and  soon  too 
— before  you  go  to  sleep." 

"But  suppo.se  I  am  tit-tit-takcn  away, 
and  don't  conic  back  again?" 

"  Well,  in  that  case  your  only  hope  is  to 
confide  in  me,  and  then  if  vou  are  taken 


I 


50 


A  CASTLE   IN  Sl'AIN. 


away  I  shall  ptn-liaps  be  luft.  It's  not  like- 
ly tli.it  both  oi"u.s  will  be  taken  uway  from 
here.  We  shiiU  perhaps  be  separated,  and 
one  will  be  left  behind.  In  that  case  the 
one  who  is  left  can  wuteii  over  the  treas- 
ure. Besides,  in  case  we  should  escape  we 
shall  know  where  it  is,  and  we  may  Ijc  able 
to  get  the  government  to  send  a  body  of 
men  here  to  help  us  recover  it." 

"  Oh  yes — the  government  1"  said  Russell, 
bitterly.  "I  know  the  government  here — 
only  too  Mcll.  The  government  will  send 
a  body  of  men  here  to  help  us  recover  it, 
and  then — why,  then  of  course  they'll  keep 
it  all  for  themselves,  every  farthing.  Yes, 
sir,  that's  the  Spanish  style — every  f-irthing. 
No;  don't  talk  to  me  about  the  govern- 
ment. I'm  bound  to  hold  on  to  this,  and 
not  trust  to  any  of  your  beggarly  Spanish 
governments." 

"But  if  you  hold  on  to  it  you'll  be  sure 
to  lose  it,"  said  Harry,  in  great  impatience. 

"  I  don't  believe  they'll  examine  mc  at 
all,"  said  Russell,  suddenly  changing  his 
tone. 

"They  will,'"  persisted  Harry,  "as  sure  as 
you're  alive,  and  that  too  before  this  time 
to-morrow.  In  that  case  you'll  lose  every 
penny  of  the  thirty  thousand  pounds." 

(And  of  course,  thought  Harry,  it'll  be 
poor  little  Katie's  loss;  and  all  through 
the  infernal  obstuiacy  of  this  pig-headed 
tailor !) 

"  Oh,  well.  I'll  think  it  over,"  said  Rus- 
sell, cautiously  avoiding  any  further  discus- 
sion. 

"You  won't  have  much  lime  for  that,'' 
urged  Harry. 

"  Oh  yes,  I  will — plenty  of  time.  I'll  have 
all  night,  for  I  won't  sleep  a  wink,  and  I 
shall  have  nothing  else  to  do  but  to  think 
over  this." 

This  was  droned  out  in  a  tone  of  utter 
despair. 

Harry  spent  some  more  time  in  trying  to 
change  Russell's  mind,  but  in  vain ;  and  at 
length  he  gave  up,  thinking  that  he  would 
have  a  better  cliance  in  tiie  morning.  Be- 
sides, he  was  beginning  to  feel  sleei)y,  and 
his  arguments  were  growing  somewhat  in- 
coherent; so  he  Hung  himself  on  the  rude 
couch  just  as  he  was,  "all  standing,"'  and 
iu  a  few  minutes  was  sound  asleep. 

Russell  sat  motionless  for  some  time,  un- 
til at  length  the  heavy  breathing  of  his  com- 
panion showed  that  lie  was  asleep.  Upon 
this  he  rose,  and  went  on  tiptoe  softly  over 
to  Harry's  bed,  and  tried  in  various  ways 


to  see  whether  the  sleep  was  false  or  real, 
Having  assured  himself  that  it  was  real,  lie 
took  up  the  torch  and  began  to  survey  tin 
apartment  more  closely.  Already,  while 
talking  with  Harry,  his  eyes  had  narrowlv 
scanned  every  corner  of  the  room,  and  no 
place  had  appeared  which  could  aft"ord  the 
slightest  chance  of  concealment.  From  the 
very  first  he  had  thought  of  the  stone  jjave- 
inent  of  the  tloor ;  but  now,  on  examination, 
thi.s  ])i'oved  to  be  far  too  ponderous  to  b 
moved  by  any  force  that  he  could  com- 
mand.  Thus,  after  having  traversed  the 
whole  room,  he  reached  the  firejilace. 

This,  as  has  been  sai<l,  was  of  gigantic 
dimensions,  being  intended  to  hold  enough 
wood  to  heat  this  vast  apartment.  Here 
among  the  mountains,  inside  this  stone  cas- 
tle, the  cold  was  sometimes  severe,  and  the 
builders  of  the  castle  had  in  this  way  made 
provision  for  the  comfort  of  its  occupants. 
To  this  chimney  Russell  now  turned  his  at- 
tention, in  the  hope  that  something  might 
present  it.sclf  here  which  could  be  used 
as  a  place  of  concealment.  So  he  walked 
stealthily  and  noiselessly  toward  it,  and  on 
reaching  it  stood  surveying  its  huge  dimen- 
sions in  great  astonishment.  Such  cliiiii- 
ncys  may  still  Ijc  seen  in  many  an  old  cas- 
tle or  palace  in  the  north  of  Europe,  tliougli 
less  frequent  in  the  castles  of  Spain.  This 
one  was  dceji  and  wide  and  high,  and  out 
friend  Russell  could  easily  enter  it  without 
stooping. 

He  entered  thus  the  great  firci)laco  ami 
looked  around,  holding  his  torch  so  as  to 
light  up  the  interior.  Below,  there  was  the 
pavement  of  stone,  which  seemed  solid  and 
immovable.  Above,  the  chimney  arose  far 
on  high,  and  through  the  wide  opening  the 
sky  overhead  was  plainly  visible,  with  its 
glittering  stars. 

Now,  as  Russell  stood  peering  about,  he 
noticed  something  in  the  construction  of 
the  chimney  which  struck  him  as  rather 
peculiar,  and  this  was  several  stones  on  the 
left  side,  which  projected  from  the  wnl 
and  Avere  placed  one  above  another.  The 
arrangement  was  so  singular  that  it  at  orci 
arrested  his  attention,  and  being  in  searcli 
of  a  hiding-place  for  his  treasure,  he  could 
not  avoid  examining  it  further  with  keener 
interest.  This  arrangement  of  the  stones 
one  above  another  aa'Us  suggestive  of  elinih- 
ing.  They  seemed  intended  for  stejis,  and 
he  therefor  peered  upward  mor*  curiously, 
to  sec  how  far  these  steps  continued  and 
what  was  the  end.    Looking  thus  upward 


A  CASTLE  IX  SPAIN. 


'I 


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mil 
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LtnJ 
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off 

tlictl 
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audi 
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'iircl 


lip  notiipfl  on  one  side  what  sucinccl  like  a 
niche  in  the  chinuiey  wall.  It  was  so 
formed  that  it  was  not  visible  unless  one 
were  standing'  deep  inside  the  chimney  and 
iDiilsing  up  for  it.  and  it  seemed  to  be  deep 
and  spacious.  No  sooner  ha<l  he  cantjht 
sight  of  this  niche  than  he  determined  to 
invcstiL,ate  it  farther.  For  ii  few  moments 
he  paused  to  see  whetlier  Harry  was  still 
asleep  or  not,  and  then,  being  satisfied  on 
this  point,  he  began  to  climb  up.  So  uice- 
]y  were  the  stones  adjusted  that  this  was 
easy  even  to  an  inactive  and  heavy  man 
i  like  him,  and  after  ascending  three  steps 
lie  stood  and  peered  into  the  niche.  It 
seemed  quite  deep,  lie  could  not  see  any 
end  to  it  or  any  terminating  wall.  Wliat 
the  design  of  it  was  he  could  not  imagine, 
lie  saw,  however,  that  it  afibrded  an  ailnii- 
ral)le  place  of  concealment  for  his  treasure, 
and  he  determined  at  once  to  avail  himself 
of  it.  Here  he  thought  it  would  be  secure 
from  discovery,  and  it  might  remain  here 
undetected  and  unharmed  for  any  length 
of  time.  As  for  tire,  it  was  not  likely  that 
the  chimney  was  ever  used;  Ijut  even  if  it 
were,  there  was  scarcely  any  possibility 
that  the  flames  could  affect  anything  in 
this  deep  niche. 

Russell  now  took  from  his  pcH'ket  a  bulky 
Iparcel,  and  leaning  far  inside  the  niche,  he 
laid  it  carefully  ilown.  Then  he  held  up 
the  torch  and  allowed  its  light  to  fall  into 
jtliG  niche,  so  as  to  see  that  all  was  secure ; 
tnfter  which,  feeling  fully  satisfied  with  his 
work,  and  experiencing  a  great  sense  of  re- 
[lieF,  he  descended  from  his  perch.  Shortly 
t'ter  he  extinguished  the  torch,  and  then, 
tretehing  himself  out  on  the  bed  beside 
[Hairy,  he  resignetl  himself  to  oblivion. 


CHAPTER  XV. 
(N  WHICH  uissKi.L  u.ndergoes  an  kxami.natiox. 

EAiii.Yon  the  following  morning  Russell 
|\vas  roused  from  sleep  by  a  messenger,  wiio 
made  a  peremptory  demand  for  him  to  rise 
»iid  follow.  Harry  explained  that  he  was 
vunted  by  the  Carlist  chief  for  cxamina- 
lion,  and  reproached  iiim  for  not  having 
Concealed  the  bonds  the  previous  night;  at 

liieh  reju-oachful  words  Russell  showed  no 
kigns  of  dejection,  as  Harry  had  expected, 
out,  on  the  contrary,  to  his  nma/ement, 
leemed  to  have  upon  his  face  a  slight  air 
pf  triumph,  regarding  him  with  a  self-satis- 
Bcd  smile  and  a  cunning  leer  which  puzzled 


him  greatly.  This  strange  and  unexpected 
change  in  Russell,  from  terror  and  despair 
to  peace  of  mind  and  jocularity,  was  a  puz- 
zle over  which  Harry  racked  his  brains  for 
some  time,  Init  to  no  puri)ose. 

Meanwliilc  Russell  was  led  away.  He 
didn't  take  up  any  time  with  his  toilet,  for 
the  unfortunate  man  saw  nothing  with 
which  he  could  even  wash  his  face.  How- 
ever, he  maile  no  complaint,  and  for  a  very 
good  reason,  since  he  could  not  speak  a 
word  of  Si)anish  ;  and,  moreover,  he  still 
felt  so  joyful  over  his  concealment  of  the 
treasure,  that  he  was  able  to  bear  with 
considerable  equanimity  all  the  lesser  ills< 
of  life. 

In  a  few  minutes  he  found  himself  ush- 
ered into  the  presence  of  the  Carlist  chief. 
The  latter  was  seated  upon  a  chest,  over 
which  some  rugs  were  spread.  Another 
chest  was  also  there,  upon  which  he  signed 
to  Russell  to  be  seated. 

'•  Ye  doesn't  spake  Spanish  ?''  said  the 
chief. 

At  these  words  Russell  started  and  stared 
in  surprise.  The  words  were  English,  with 
an  accent  that  was  not  altogether  unfamil- 
iar.    It  seemed  a  good  omen. 

''  Do  you  speak  English  ?"  he  exclaimed. 

"A  tliroitle,"  said  the  chief  "I  had  a 
frind  that  learned  mc  a  few  sintineis  av  it ; 
so  I  doesn't  inoind  spakin  it,  as  it'll  be  more 
convaynient  for  both  av  us.  Ye  must  know, 
thin,  that,  in  the  first  place,  I  lamint  the  ne- 
cessichood  that  compils  mc  to  arrest  the 
loikes  av  you,  but  I've  got  arders  from  mc 
military  shupariors,  an'  I've  got  to  obey 
thim,  so  I  have.  It's  no  use  protistin,  for 
I'm  only  an  agint.  So  I'd  loike  yez  to 
be  lionest  wid  mc,  an'  I'll  be  th"  same  wid 
you." 

"  Why,  you  speak  English  first-rate — in 
fact,  splendid,''  said  the  delighted  Russell. 
"  I  never  heard  a  foreigner  speak  it  so  well 
before." 

"  Sure  an'  it's  aisy  enough,"  said  the 
chief;  "as  aisy  as  dhrinkin',  whin  ye  have 
practice.  I've  got  a  farm  accint,  av  coorse, 
but  that's  nayther  here  nor  there." 

Russell  thought  that  his  accent  had  a  lit- 
tle smack  of  Irish  about  it,  and  wondered 
whether  all  Spaniards  spoke  Engli.sh  like 
that. 

"  Ye'll  excuse  me,"  said  the  chief,  "  if  I 
have  to  ax  you  a  few  throitlin  interroga- 
tions for  farrum's  sake.  I'll  now  begin. 
What  is  your  namef" 

"•Russell." 


i)V 


A  CASTLE  IN  SPAIN. 


"  Russell — ah  !    Wliat  profession  ?'' 

"  A  gentleman,"  said  Kussell,  somewhat 
pompously. 

"  A  ginllemau,  eh  ;  an'  ye  live  on  yer  own 
money  V 

"  Of  course." 

"That's  right," said  the  ehief,  with  deep 
satisfaction.  "It's  meself  that's  the  proud 
man  this  day  to  meet  wid  the  loikes  avyou 
that's  got  an  inilepiudint  fartune,  an'  can 
call  his  sowl  his  own.  An'  have  yez  been 
long  in  Spain,  thin  ?" 

"  No,  only  a  couple  of  montlis.'' 

"  Thravelliu'  for  plisure,  av  coorse,"  in- 
sinuated the  chief. 

"Yes;  I  wanted  to  take  a  run  tlirough 
the  Continent,"  said  Kussell,  in  a  grandiose 
way,  as  thongh  the  "  Continent"  was  some- 
thing belonging  to  him;  "and  I'm  also 
bringing  home  with  me  a  ward  of  mine — 
Miss'Westlotorn." 

"  Ah !  an'  so  tlie  young  lady  is  a  ward 
av  yours?  l  thought  she  was  your  daugh- 
ter." 

"  No,  she's  my  ward." 

"Isshericli?'' 

"  Well,  sir,  she's  comfortable ;  she's  worth 
about  fifty  thousand  pounds  sterling.  Now 
I  don't  call  that  rich  ;  I  onlv  call  it  com- 
fortable.'' 

"An'  what  do  yez  call  ri-h?"  asked  the 
chief,  in  a  tender  voice,  full  oi  aft'ectionate 
interest. 

"  Well,  a  couple  of  hundred  thousand 
pounds  or  so.  You  see,  when  I  was  worth 
fifty  thousand  I  thought  I  v.as  somebody, 
but  I  soon  learned  how  paltry  an  amount 
that  is.  No,  sir;  two  hundred  thousand 
pounds  are  necessary  to  make  a  ricli  man, 
and  not  a  penny  less,  sir — not  a  ])enny,  sir.'' 

"  Tiiim's  me  own  sintimints  intirely,''  said 
the  chief;  "that  shuits  me,  so  it  does.  I 
saw  by  the  cut  av  yez  that  ye  must  be  a 
millioniiaire  at  laste — so  I  did." 

"A.  millionnaire!''  said  Kussell,  with  af- 
fected modesty.  "  Well,  you  know,  in  Eng- 
land tliafs  a  big  word  ;  i^ut  I  suppose  Jiere 
in  Spain,  or  anywiiere  on  the  Continent,  I 
might  be  called  one.' 

"  I  suppose,''  said  the  chief,  after  a])ause, 
"  that  ye've  got  an  ixtinsive  acquaintiuce 
wid  the  nobility  an'gintry  an'  all  thim  fel- 
lers ?" 

"  Yes,"  said  Russell,  "  I  have ;  and  not  in 
England  only,  I)ut  throughout  the  Conti- 
nent. Not  that  I  think  much  of  the  Con- 
tinental nobility.  Between  you  and  me,  I 
think  tliey're  a  beggarly  lot." 


"  Thrue  for  you,"  said  the  chief.  "  Thini'.| 
mc  own  sintimints.'' 

"  Why,  sir,"  continued  Russell,  who  evil 
dently  tliought  he  was  making  a  deep  inil 
pression,  and  so  went  on  all  the  more  in  lij-J 
vainglorious  boastings,  "some  of  tliese  heic) 
Continental  nobility  ain't  worth  a  brass  farj 
thing.  Why,  sir,  there's  lots  of  respectnblJ 
English  merchants — tailors,  for  inslance-l 
and  other  (juiet,  unassuming  gentlemen,] 
who  could  buy  out  these  Continental  no[ 
bles,  out  and  out,  over  and  over  again." 

"Divil  a  doubt  av  that  .same,"  said  tliej 
chief,    "Ye  know  how  to  ixpriss  yourself  J 
wid  very  shuitable  sintimints.     I'd  like  to 
know  more  av  you.     I  su2)pose  ye've  gotiij 
passjjort  ?" 

"  A  passport  ?''  said  Russell.  "  Well,  \c?.\ 
I  believe  1  did  get  one;"  and  fuuibling  ir.i 
his  pocket,  he  succeeded  in  bringing  to  light  f 
that  important  document.  This  the  chiet'j 
took,  and,  without  opening  it,  put  it  in  hi;| 
own  pocket. 

"I'll  take  a  Ink  at  it  prisintly,"  said  lic.j 
"  Perhaps  ye  can  tell  me  about  yer  frind,  tin  j 
young  man  tluit's  wid  yez.     Is  he  yer  son  f  j 

"Son?  Oil  no;  but  he's  a  doosed  fiiicj 
young  feller.     His  name's  Rivers." 

"Is  he  rich  'f 

"Well,  he's  pretty  comfortable,  I  tliinki 
He's  in  the  wine  and  fruit  business,  ami  liasl 
an  agency  at  Barcelona." 

"Sure  an'  it's  meself  that's  glad  to  hear! 
that  same,"  said   the  chief.     "An'  can  ycf 
tell  me  anything  about  that  other  youii;;! 
man  that  was  slitrivin'  to  join  yer  j)arty  .'• 

"That  fellow — his  name's  Asliby."' 

"Ashby,isit?" 

"  Yes,  and  the  greatest  scoundrel  that  evcrl 
lived — a  miserable  fortune-hunter,  trying  tol 
inveigle  my  ward  into  a  marriage.  I  caiufj 
here  barely  in  time  to  save  her.  And  tin! 
only  object  the  infernal  sc(nindrel  has  now 
in  sneaking  after  me  is  to  try  and  get  liolii 
of  her  and  get  her  from  nie.  But  lit'i!^ 
tind  he's  got  pretty  tough  work  before  him.  j 
He's  got  me  to  deal  with  this  time." 

"IstIieyounggyerrulfondavliim?"askcu| 
the  chief,  in  a  tone  of  deep  anxiety. 

"She?  Fond  of  him?  Pooh!  Nonsense: 
She's  like  all  girls — likes  to  have  attention^ 
paid  her,  that's  all;  and  so  this  ])oor  lbi>l 
thought  she  would  marry  him.  Why,  tlu  j 
man's  an  ass !  But  I  guess  he's  liad  enough 
of  chasing  her  by  this  time.  By  Jovcl 
there's  some  satisfaction,  after  all,  in  beiugj 
caught  this  way,  since  he's  caught  too." 

Some  further  conversation  followed  of  I 


A  CASTLE  IN   SPAIN. 


53 


the  same  kind.  Russell  continued  to  in- 
(luigc  in  a  stniin  of  self-gloriticiition,  and 
the  chief  to  ask  liim  questions.  By  yield- 
ing to  his  silly  vanity  Kussell  was  prepar- 
ing the  way  for  results  wliit'li  Ik;  little  ex- 
pected. Little  did  he  dream  of  what  was 
soon  to  disclose  itself.  lie  thought  that  j 
lie  was  impressing  tlie  mind  of  the  Carlist; 
chief  with  ideas  of  the  greatness,  grandeur, ' 
l)o\ver,  wealth,  and  glory  of  the  celebrated 
llussell  wiiom  he  had  made  his  prisoner,  I 
anil  hoped  in  this  way  to  overawe  his  cap- 
tor so  as  to  secure  good  treatment,  or  even 
to  terrify  him  into  letting  him  go.  lie 
little  knew  that  the  ciiief  regarded  him 
merely  as  a  bird  to  be  plucked.  In  his 
eyes,  the  more  the  feathers  the  greater  the 
yield.  Tlie  moment  the  chief  (bund  that 
Ills  prisoner  professed  to  be  a  millionnairc, 
that  moment  the  fate  of  Ilussell  and  his  i)ar- 
ty  was  sealed.  The  clfeet  upon  the  ciiief  was 
already  manifest  in  part,  for  every  moment 
he  grew  more  courteous  in  his  manner. 

"  Sure  it's  mesclf,"  said  he,  at  length, 
"  that's  bothered  about  the  accommoda- 
tions ye  have.  It's  a  cowld,  damp  room 
tliat,  an'  no  furniture  at  all  at  all."' 

'■  Yes,"  said  Russell,  "  it  is  rather  rough  ; 
and  for  a  man  that's  accustomed  to  high 
living  and  luxurious  surroundings  it's  very 
bad.     I'm  dreadfid  afraid  of  rlieumatiz.'' 

"Don't  spake  another  word  about  it,'' 
said  the  chief,  briskly.  "  I'll  find  ye  anoth- 
er room  where  ye'll  be  as  comfortable  as 
the  Quane  av  England.  Ye'll  have  as  good 
a  bed  as  the  best." 

Tiiis  sudden  offer  startled  Russell  and  ex- 
cited dreadful  apprehensions.  What  would 
become  of  his  bonds?  He  hastened  now 
to  modify  his  last  words. 

"  Oh,  well,''  said  he,  '•  for  that  matter,  you 
needn't  trouble  yourself.  I  dare  say  I  shall 
do  very  well  where  I  am." 

"Do  very  well,  is  it?  What  I  an'  you 
wid  the  rlieumatiz !  Sure  to  glory  an'  ye'll 
not  do  anytliing  av  the  kind.  I'll  get  yez 
another  room  where  ye'll  be  warrum." 

"  Oh,  but,"  said  Russell,  in  deep  uneasi- 
ness, "  I  like  that  room,  I  do,  reallj'.  I  like 
the  view  and  the — the  —  the  ventilation. 
It's  splendid — in  fact  it's  the  finest  room  to 
sleep  in  I  ever  saw.  If  you  could  only  let 
uie  have  a  bed  to  myself — " 

"A  bed  toyerself?  Sure  an'  that's  jist 
what  I'm  going  to  give  ye — a  bed  to  yer- 
self  altogether  an'  a  room  too;  an'  so  ye'll 
have  comfort,  an'  warrumth,  an'  solichood 
all  couiboined." 


''But, really,"  persisted  Russell,"  my  dear 
sir.  all  that  is  quite  unnecessary." 

"Not  a  bit  av  it.  Ye'll  have  the  best; 
an'  the  room  '11  be  yours  at  onct,  so  it  will ; 
an'  ye'll  not  go  back  to  bed  again  in  that 
frozen  hole.'' 

"  But  I  assure  you — I  assure  you,"  i)er- 
sisted  Russell,  most  earnestly,  '■  it's  a  nol)le 
room  —  a  comfortable  room  —  a  splendid 
room." 

'•  Oh,  sure  ye're  too  modest,  so  ye  are," 
said  the  chief.  "  But  iiivir  ye  moind — lave 
it  all  to  me.     I'll  fix  it  for  ye." 

Russell  was  in  deep  dejection  and  anxi- 
ety, yet  he  felt  afraid  to  press  the  matter 
too  eagerly.  To  be  taken  away  from  the 
vicinity  of  his  treasure  was  indeed  a  eiush- 
ing  IjIow,  yet  he  tlared  not  olijet:t  too 
strongly  lest  the  chief  might  suspect  some- 
thing. So  he  could  only  submit  with  the 
best  grace  possible  under  the  circunistanees. 
and  find  faint  consolation  in  the  thought 
that  the  treasure  was  at  least  secure. 

After  a  brief  silence  tin;  chief  resumed  : 

"  It's  pained  I  am,  so  I  am,  to  trouble  a 
gintleman  uv  fartune,  but  I'm  undlier  the 
onjjli.sint  naycissichood  avsubjictin'ye  to  a 
further  examination.  It's  a  mite  onplisint 
at  first,  but  it's  nothin'  whin  ver  used  to 
it." 

"Another  examination?"  repeated  Rus- 
sell, with  no  little  uneasiness.  "  What  is 
that  ?" 

"  Oh,  it's  only  an  examination  av  yer  ap- 
parel, yer  clothes,  bit  by  bit.'' 

"My  clothes?" 

"Yes  —  to  gyard  against  anythin'  bein' 
concailcd  about  ye." 

''  But  I  have  nothing  concealed,  on  my 
honor!'' 

At  this  the  chief  waved  his  hands  depre- 
catingly. 

"Hush!''  said  he.  "Whisht,  will  ye! 
don't  I  know  it  ?  begorra  nieself  does.  It's 
all  a  mere  farrum.  It's  a  laygal  inactuiint 
that  I've  got  to  follow.  Discipline  must 
be  kept  np.  Sure  an'  if  I  didn't  obey  the 
law  mesclf  first  an'  fiu'cmost,  me  own  mind 
'ud  all  revolt  against  me,  an'  thin  where'd 
I  be?  But  it'll  not  be  anythin'.  Sure  to 
glory,  many's  the  fine  man  I've  shtripped. 
an'  him  none  the  worse  for  it.  So  go 
ahead,  fool,  an'  the  sooner  ye  begin,  the 
sooner  it'll  be  over." 

"  I — I— don't  see — I — I — don't  know — " 
stammered  Russell. 

'*  Arrali,  sure  to  glory,  it's  as  aisy  as  wink. 
Begin  where  ve  are." 


.14 


A  CASTLi:  IN  SPAIN. 


1 


'•  \Vliat,liL'rer'  cried  Uii.'ScU,  :igliast, 

"  Yis." 

'■  Uiulrcss  licrc  V 

"  Av  coorsc." 

"But  —  but  —  umyn't  I  liave  a  private 
room  {"' 

"  IJut  ye  mayn't,  for  yc  moii;lit  consale 
somctiiiir.  Yc've  j^dt  to  oiulrc«d  before  tlie 
examiiiin'  committee  —  that's  mc.  Some- 
times it's  clone  in  tlie  presence  uv  a  com- 
mittee av  the  whole — that's  tlic  wliole  reg- 
iment av  us;  but  tiiis  time,  out  av  jue  re- 
spect for  you  an'  cousiilheralions  av  deear- 
rum,  I've  farrumed  a  committee  av  one." 

"  But  wliat  other  clotlies  may  I  put  on  V 
asked  Uus.sell,  ruefully. 

"  Sure  an'  I've  got  u  fine  shuit  for  ye." 

"I  don't  see  any."' 

"Oh,  they're  handy  enough  to  here: 
they're  in  the  ne.xt  room,  (piite  convay- 
nient,  an'  I'll  let  ye  have  thini  afther  ye 
get  these  olf." 

Uussell  stood  still  in  deep  gloom  and  de- 
spondency. All  his  tinesu  feelings  wc^re 
outraged  beyond  descrii)tion  at  this  pro- 
posal. The  chief,  however,  sat  calm  i'.nd 
smiling,  as  though  (piite  unconsci(Jus  of  any 
evil  intent. 

"  Come,"  said  he,  "  hurry  up  1" 

There  was  no  help  liu'  it.  He  was  clear- 
ly in  this  man's  power.  It  was  a  dreadful 
thouglit ;  yet  he  had  to  obey.  : 

So  he  took  otf  his  cravat.  This  he  did 
slowly  and  solemnly,  as  though  preparing 
to  bare  his  neck  for  the  axe  of  the  execu- 
tioner. 

"Come,   make    haste,"   said    the    chief. 
"I've  only  got  a  few  minutes  to  spare  ;  an' 
if  yc  can't  change  yer  clothes  before   me 
alone,  why,  I'll  have  to  go  olT,  an"  thin  ye'U  ' 
have  half  a  dozen  av  thim  up  here  at  ve.''" 

"And  must  I?"  moaned  t!ie  unhappy 
man.  j 

"  Av  coorsc,"  said  the  chief.  "An'  what 
is  it  all  ?  Sure  it's  notliin'  at  all  at  all,  so 
it  isn't."  I 

Russell  gave  a  lieavy  sigh,  and  then  tak- 
ing olf  his  coat  he  laid  it  on  the  floor. 
Then  he  cast  an  appealing  glance  at  the 
chief,  who,  however,  only  responded  with 
an  impatient  gesture.  Tiiereupou  Russell 
took  off  his  waistcoat.  Another  appealing 
jrlancc  was  then  thrown  nt  the  chief,  who 
only  responded  by  a  ges.  are  more  impa- 
tient than  before. 

"  Come,"  said  he,  "  be  quick  I  Yc  see,  ye 
may  have  no  end  av  val'able  dockymints 
stitched   in   between    the    lining    av    yer 


clothes — I've    often    knowed    that    saiii- 
Begorra,  we  get   more   in   tiiat  way   tii..t| 
wc  find  stitched  in  the  clotlies,  than  we 
do  from  the  wallets  an'  the  opin  coullni- 
butions." 

"But  I  haven't  anything  stitched  \>'.- 
tweeu  my  clothes." 

"  So  yc  say,  an'  so  I'm  bouml  to  believe," 
sai<l  the  chief.     "Sure  1  wouldn't  for  tlio 
worruld  be  afther  hintin'  that  ye  iverspaki] 
anythin'  but  the  trutii.     Howandiver,  I'll 
tell  ye  somethin'.     Ye  see,  I  was  staudiii' 
at  the  ilure  av  yer  room  last  night  by  tiicj 
marest  accidint,  an'  I  happened  to  overhear  I 
a  coMfal)ulation    lietween   yo>i  an'   Itivi  i 
An'  yc  know  what  ye  towld  him,  ami 
know  wiiat  he  said  to  you.     Y'c  said  some- 1 
thin"  al>out  havin'  Spanish  bonds— to  the 
chime  av  thirty  lliousanil  pounds— in  veil 
pocket,   or    about    ye   somewhere,  an'    yc 
wanted  some  ])lace  to  hide  it,  an'  Rivera 
advised    ye    to    have    it    stitched    in    yer  l 
clothes.     Now,  I  scorrun  avcsdhroppin',  s(i 
I   does,  but   whin   infarrumation   av   that 
kind  comes  free  to  yer  ears,  ye're  jjound  to  I 
get  the  good  av  it.     An'  so  I'm  goin'  tn 
iustichoot  an  invistigation  over  yer  clotlu-. 
an'  over  yer  room,  an"  over  yer  thrunks,  ai. 
over  evcrythin'  ye've  got,  an'  I'm  not  goin 
to  rist  till  I've  got  thim  bond,s.    Oh,  v 
needn't  say  anythin'  —  I  can  sec  it  all   \<. 
yer  face.     There's  iiothin'  to  say.     I  don't 
expect  yc  to  own  up  an'  liand  over  the 
money.     I'm  contint  to  hunt  it  up  mesclf 
— that  is,  for  the  ])risint.    Y'c  see,  it's  mine, 
for  it  belongs  to  His  R'yal  Majesty  Carlos, 
King  av  S[)ain.     The  bonds  are  issued  by 
Spain,  an'  as  he  is  King  av  Spain  he  owns 
thim  bonds.     If  ye  was  a  native  Sjjaniard 
ye'd  give  thim  up  out  av  pure  loyalty,  but 
as  ye're  a  farr'ner,  why,  av  coorse  ye  can't 
be  ixpieted  to  deny  yerself  to  such  an  i.x- 
tint.'' 

At  this  astounding  disclosure  Russell 
was  struck  dumb.  St>,  then,  his  secret  Mas 
Ijctraycd,  and  in  the  most  dangerous  quar- 
ter, and,  worst  of  all,  by  his  own  folly! 
Once  or  twice  he  was  about  to  speak,  but 
the  chief  checked  him,  and  he  himself  was 
only  too  well  aware  of  the  utter  futility  of 
any  denial  or  of  any  attempt  to  cxi)laiii 
away  what  the  chief  had  overheard.  Only 
one  consolation  now  remained,  and  that 
was  the  hope  that  the  chief  might  not  find 
it.  The  place  in  which  he  had  hidden  flic 
bonds  seemed  to  him  to  be  very  much  out 
of  the  way  of  an  ordinary  search,  and  not 
at  all  likely  to  be  explored  by  any  one. 


Ill-    rSKOIlTINATK    COMPANMON    SAT   TllKlli:,  TIIK    riCTniK   OF   TKKIIOK,  DKSPONDKNCV,  AM)    MISKIIY. 


"an'    so,  I    SAY,  YE'LI.    IIAVK    TO    LOOK    ON    Tlll.M    (HNUAL'S    CLOTIIKS    AS    YKR    OWN. 


A  CASTLE  IN  SPAIN. 


55 


At  li'iis'li  Rii«i*t;ll  liiiil  linislictl  his  task, 
ami  li:i<l  divested  liimself  of  everything, 
liiHi'i'iiKirseless  captor  insistiiifj  on  his  leav- 
iiiLT  iiothiiii?;  and  so  lie  stood  >hiviMingand 
crouching  on  tlie  stone  fhior. 

Now,"  said  tiic  chief, '•  walk  in  tlicre. 
ril  follow."' 

He  pointed  to  a  passage-way  on  the  ielY, 
which  led  to  an  apartment  heyon(l.  At 
his  gesture  liussell  slunk  away  in  that 
direction,  whih;  the  chii'f,  gathering  all 
the  clothes  up  in  a  huniilc,  followed.  On 
reaching  the  apartment,  llussell  saw  sonic 
^jarnicnts  lying  spread  out  on  a  bench. 
They  wc'c  i;>';'.o  new,  and  consisted  of  n 
military  uniform  profusely  decorated  with 
gohl-laec.    Everything  was  there  complete. 

•'There,"  said  tlic  chief,  "thim  clothes 
helonged  to  a  frind  av  mine  wliosc  ac- 
quaintincc  I  made  a  month  ago.  He  left 
these  here  an'  wint  away  in  another  sluiit, 
just  as  ye'U  lave  ycr  clothes  an'  go  away, 
lis  I  thrust,  in  these.  Put  thim  on  now,  as 
soon  as  ye  loikc.  Ye'U  tind  thim  a  fme  tit, 
nn'  they're  an  excellint  niatayrial.  The 
frind  that  left  thim  was  a  giniral  ofHcer, 
niul  Ije  the  same  tokin  that  same  man  swore 
Iniorc,  an'  faster,  an'  louder,  an'  deeper  than 
Iniiy  man  I  iver  met  witli  afore  or  since." 

SViiile  the  afl'able  chief  was  thus  talking, 
iRussell  proceeded  to  array  himself  in  the 

cneral's  uniform.  Everything  was  there 
complete,  from  top  to  toe,  and  everything 
i'lis  of  the  very  best  quality — rieliest  gold 
lace,  glittering  epaulettes,  stri[)es  and  iiands 
that  dazzled  the  eye,  buttons  and  chains  of 
pplendor  indescribable,  hat  with  gorgeous 
plumage,  sword  of  magnificent  decoration, 
iittached  to  a  belt  that  a  king  might  choose 

wear.  All  these  delighted  the  soul  of 
iussell,  butnot  least  of  all  the  cloth,  whose 
koftness  and  exquisite  fineness  appealed  to 
nis  professional  feelings,  and  caused  his  lin- 
gers to  wander  lovingly  over  the  costly 
tabric. 

Soon  he  had  completed  the  task  of  dress- 
ing himself,  and  once  more  stood  erect  in 
|lll  the  dignity  of  manhood, 

"Begorra!"  said  the  chief,  "ye'd  ought 

be  grateful  to  me  for  makin'  ye  put  on 
tliim  clothes.    Ye  look  loikc  a  commandher- 

i-chafe,  so  ye  do — loikc  the  Juke  av  Wel- 
Bngton  himself.  The  clothes  fit  j-e  loike  a 
llove.  I  niver  saw  a  betther  fit— -niver. 
fe  must  put  on  yer  sword  an'  belt,  so  as 

give  a  finish  to  it  all,"  and  with  these 
I'ords  he  handed  Russell  the  .-.eapon  of 
h'".    Russell  took  it  with  evident  pleas- 


ure and  fastened  it  about  Ids  wai.st.  The 
chief  made  him  walk  up  and  down,  and 
complimented  him  so  strongly  that  the 
prisoner  in  his  new  delight  almost  forgot 
the  woes  of  captivity. 

The  chief  now  i)repared  to  retire.  Point- 
ing to  Hussell's  clothes,  which  he  had  kept 
all  the  time  rolled  up  in  a  bundle  tucked 
undi'r  one  arm,  he  shook  his  head  medita- 
tively and  .said, 

'•It'll  be  a  long  job  I'll  be  huvin'  wid 
these." 

"Why  so?"  asked  Russell. 

"Sure  it's  the  examiniii"  that  I've  got  to 
do,"  said  the  chi(.'f.  "  Gin'rally  we  examine 
thim  by  stiekin'  i)ins  through  every  part, 
but  in  yer  case  there's  thirty  thousand 
jjounds  stowed  away  somewhere,  an'  I'm 
goin'  meself  to  rip  every  stitch  apart.  Ai- 
ther  I've  done  wid  my  search  thro'  thim 
clothes,  it  isn't  lolkcly  that  any  one  in  this 
castle  'il  ever  be  loikely  to  put  thim  togeth- 
er again.  To  do  that  same  "ud  nade  a  pro- 
fissional  tailor  wid  a  crayative  janiu-,  so  it 
would.  An'  so,  I  say,  ye'U  have  to  look  on 
thim  gin'ral's  clothes  as  yer  own ;  an'  whin 
ye  get  free,  as  I  hope  ye'U  be  soon,  ye  may 
wear  thim  away  liome  wid  ye,  an'  take  my 
blessin'  wid  ye.  ISIoreovcr,  ye'U  have  to 
keep  t'i  -s  !  om.  I'll  spind  this  day  in  ex- 
aminin'  yer  clothes,  an'  to-morrow  I'll  ex- 
amine the  other  room.  The  bonds  "11  kape 
till  then,  as  I  know  ye  haven't  towld  Riv- 
ers anythin'  about  wlwit  ye  done  wid  thim.'' 

"With  these  word.s  the  chief  retired,  and 
locked  the  door  after  him. 


CHAPTER  XVI. 

now  nussKLL  has  an  intkhvikw  with  a  M::nuY 

MONARCH. 

That  same  evening  Russell  was  aston- 
ished at  receiving  a  fairly  written  note, 
which  when  opened  contained  the  follow- 
ing in  English : 

"  The  King  trill  lie  grnciouxhj  ]>hrised  to 
receive  Lord  liusadl  this  crcnin'j  at  seven^ 
o'clock.'^ 

It  was  written  on  simple  note-paper,  and 
bore  no  date.  The  messenger  who  brought 
it  handed  it  in,  and  departed  without  say- 
ing a  word. 

On  reading  this  note,  Russell  was  com- 
pletely bewildered.  Who,  he  thought,  is 
the  King  I  Who  is  Lord  Russell  ?  A  pro- 
longed meditation  over  this  could  throw 


GG 


A  CASTLE  IN  SPAIN. 


no  piirticulur  lij^lit  upon  it,  and  at  lon^'tli 
lie  was  forced  to  concliuh!  tliat  lio  liinisdf 
\v»»  taken  lor  Lord  John  Hiisscll,  tliat  fa- 
nioiiH  Kn^lisli  statesman  wliose  namt;  is 
known  over  the  clvili/ed  vorhl.  It  was  a 
mistake,  yet,  as  he  complt ceiitly  tiioiiiflit, 
not,  after  all,  an  nnnatural  one.  ]}y  lonj; 
familiarity  with  the  Hritish  aristocraey  (in 
the  capacity  of  tailor)  he  had  perhaps  uncon- 
sciously their  lofty  sentiments  and  cauj^ht 
lip  their  aristocratic  tone  and  licariiif^.  In 
l)ersoii  lie  felt  that  he  had  rather  the  ad- 
vantage; of  Lord  John.  His  name  liad,  of 
course,  somethinjT  to  do  •with  the  mistake. 
All  these  tliini,'s  had  oomhined  to  ffive  his 
captors  the  imiiression  tiiat  he  was  a  Brit- 
ish jieer. 

Jhit  wlio  was  "the  Kiiii^?"  The  Queen 
of  Spain  would  he  the  ex-Queeu  ;  the  last 
King  of  Spain  was  now  the  ex-King  Ama- 
deus;  hut  "the  King" — who  was  he  ?  At 
lengtli  it.  Hashed  u[)on  Hiissell  that  ''  the 
King"  could  mean  no  other  than  the  cele- 
brated personage  who  claimed  for  himself 
that  title,  and  who  was  known  to  the  world 
as  Lion  Carlos.  This,  then,  was  the  ilhistri- 
ous  personage  with  whom  he  was  shortly 
to  have  an  interview. 

It  must  be  confessed  that,  in  spite  of  his 
hmg  association  with  the  Ihitish  aristocra- 
cy, the  bosom  of  the  valiant  Hussell  heaved 
with  strange  emotions,  and  his  iie.irt  (]uaked 
with  UHusiial  throes,  at  the  prospect  of  tiiis 
interview.  As  his  host  claimed  to  be 
"King,"  III"  would  naturally  expect  to  be 
treated  as  -ueli.  JJut  how  would  that  be? 
Of  the  etiipiette  of  courts  Russell  had  no 
knowledge  whatever.  From  French  novels 
which  he  iiad  read  he  had  a  vague  idea 
that  i)eople  said  '•  Sire  "  when  addressing 
majesty,  and  got  c,  their  knees  to  kiss  roy- 
al haniis  when  fust  introduced.  But  far- 
ther than  this  our  good  Kussell's  knowl- 
edge did  not  lead  him,  nor  was  his  imagi- 
nation alile  to  C(mvey  him.  He  coukl  only 
conjecture  in  the  vaguest  possible  way,  and 
wait  as  patiently  as  possible  for  the  hour 
of  the  momentous  interview. 

The  appointed  time  arrived.  He  was 
waited  on  by  six  men:  all  were  armed. 
Russell  felt  an  involuntary  trepidation  at 
this  sight,  which  reminded  him  of  events, 
in  his  reading,  where  ormed  men  came  in 
this  way  to  lead  some  wretched  prisoner 
otT  to  execution.  However,  he  succeeded 
in  plucking  np  his  courage  sufficiently  to 
follow  them.  His  own  attire,  certainly,  did 
not  a  little  toward  inspiring  liim  with  for- 


iif 


oil 


titudc,  and  the  brilliant  uniform  of  ii  gei 
tral  oHicer  with  golden  oj)aulettes,  g<ili 
stripes,  gold  buttons,  gold  lace,  gold  Imt- 
hand,  gold  collar,  gorgeous  hat,  res|)lendc'iu 
feathers,  and  rattling,  clanking  sword,  iil! 
served  to  stimulate  him  and  rouse  him  t. 
the  heroic  mood. 

He  was  led  liy  the  men  to  the  grand  liall 
in  whi<'h  he  had  been  belbre.  Here,  around 
the  sides,  were  gathered  a  large  number  nl 
men,  all  armed, and,  though  ill-dressed,  sti 
])resentiiig  a  very  impressive  appearance, 
ill  the  middle  of  the  hall  was  a  table 
which  a  dinner  wa.s  spread.  All  around 
hiuulred  torches  llared  and  ilamed,  aini 
from  them  vast  clouds  of  pitchy  :^inoke  roll 
ed  aloft  into  the  vaulted  ceiling.  At  oiu 
end  there  was  a  raised  seat,  and  on  tliai 
raised  .seat  there  was  a  Hgure  clothed  in  : 
military  garb  and  infohletl  in  a  niilitiuy 
cloak.    Toward  this  figure  Russell  was  Id. 

Now,  Russell  was  so  overawed  by  tin 
wild  scei."  by  the  armed  men,  and,  ahovt 
all,  by  the  thought  of  the  royal  presence  am! 
the  royal  eye,  that  he  dared  not  look  up 
but  kept  his  eyes  humbly  on  the  lloor,  iuk 
in  this  way  advanced.  On  reaching  tlu 
aforesaid  iignre  our  Russell  fell  upon  hi,. 
knees,  and  seizing  the  hand  of  said  ligurc, 
proceeded  to  kiss  it  with  much  vigor,  wlin 
suildenly  a  familiar  voice  sounded  in  liL 
ears,  and  looking  up,  he  felt  like  LallaRookl 
at  the  discovery  of  Feramorz,  for  he  Ibiiiii. 
that  this  royal  personage  was  none  otlic 
than  the  Carlist  chief 

"Rise,  me  lord,"  said  the  well-knowJ 
voice.  "  We  arc  glad  to  recay  vc  ye  in  oiil 
r'y'l  prisincc.  "NVe  cud  give  ye  bettheriiitoil 
tainmint  in  our  r'y'l  jialace  av  the  Escuiial 
only  thim  thayves  av  rebels  won't  let  ii>J 
But  we  can  maintain  our  state  here  in  tlic« 
say(]nesthered  mountains,  an',  begorra,  ivl 
have  a  throne  in  the  hearts  av  a  bowld  i)i.j 
intry." 

By  this   time  Russell  had  risen   to  ii:| 
feet,  and  stood  there  bowing  over  and  ovi: 
again. 

"  His  ^Majesty  "  rose. 

"  I'm  not  overfond,"  said  he,  "  me  loi J 
av  state  eti(piette,  though  our  ancistors  wcj 
divils  av  fellers  at  it.      What  I  loike 
a  good  dinner,  an'   a  shiss  av   sometliid 
warrum,  an'  a  pipe  afthcr  all.    Ye'vc  liciirl 


the  owld  song  : 


" '  oil,  r,  inste  av  salt  .".n'  n  plate  av  praties, 
All  a  (Ihrop  av  whiskey  to  wash  thlm  down, 
Ar '  a  tasty  illiiiidlieen  to  help  dipiistimi— 
Thill's  the  fiishiou  iu  Limerick  town.'  " 


A  CASTLK  IX  SrAIX. 


It  had  ulrciidy  causeil  souu'  surprise  ti) 
Hussill  thiit  n  Spuiiisli  flik'lliiiii  slioiilil 
.spi'iik  Eii^'lisli  witlj  tlie  Irisli  iicceiit;  luit 
iiDW  ti)  (liul  one  wlio  flaimcd  tn  In;  the 
Kinji  of  Spain  lightly  troUinLf  an  Irisli  dit- 
ty to  a  roUiekinjf  tune  was,  to  say  the  least, 
just  a  little  unusual.  It  oecurred  to  him, 
liowcv'T,  that  "His  Maj(;sty  "  must  have 
learned  his  Enj^lish  iVom  an  Iri--hman;  and 
further  thouj^ht  showed  him  that  audi  ii 
fact  was  perfectly  natural,  sinee,  lieiiij^  a 
Catholie,  he  had  of  course  emi)loyed  a  Cath- 
olic tutor,  who  was  almost  certain  to  be  an 
Irishman.  Which  conclusion  led  to  unotli- 
ir,  namely,  that  the  Catholic  princes  and 
nohles  of  Europe,  includiuf^  the  Po])e  him- 
self and  the  Coliej^e  of  Ctirdinals,  if  they 
speak  English  at  all,  speal;  it  with  more  or 
less  of  an  Irish  brogue. 

"His  ^lajcsty"  now  led  tlic  way  to  the 
tahle,  inviting  Kussell  to  Ibllow.  There 
Kiissell  beheld  a  tempting  repast,  whose 
savoiy  steam  penetrated  through  his  iios- 
tiils  to  tliat  heart  of  hearts— that  con'onliinii 
wiiieli  lieth  behind  all  sense,  tilling  it  with 
wild  longings.  He  saw  roast  capons,  ob- 
tained from  Heaven  knows  where;  rich 
odoriferous  olid  podridn^  and  various  kinds 
of  game.  There  was  aromatic  cotVee;  there 
were  steaming  meat -pics,  in  wliich  was 
perceptible  the  scent  of  truffles;  wh'le 
modestly,  yet  all-pervadingly,  like  the  per- 
finnc  of  mignonette  in  a  garden  of  a  thou- 
sand flowers,  or  like  the  inlluence  of  one 
,1,'ood  man  in  a  community  of  worldlings,  or 
like  the  song  of  the  poet  in  a  hard,  prosaic 
age,  there  was  wafted  to  his  senses  the 
steam  of  fat  upland  mushrooms. 

Those  two  had  that  banquet  all  to  tliem- 
sclvcs — namely, "  His  Majesty  "  and  '•  Lord '" 
KussfU. 

'•  Me  lord,"  said  "  His  ^Majesty,"  "  is  any- 
tliing  wanting?  Tell  us.  Yer  wish  shall 
1  e  giatilied.  Docs  ye  wish  for  music  ?  A 
pi|)er  an'  a  fiddler  too  are  both  convaynient, 
an',l.iegorra,thim  fellerscan  liate  out-an'-f»ut 
all  the  pipers  an'  fiddlers  tnis  side  av  the 
Bay  av  Biscaj'.  They're  both  Irislnncn,  so 
they  arc,  an'  they're  our  sworn  body-gyard, 
an'  there  ye  have  it.  But,  man,  ye're  not 
dluinkin'.  "NVliat  '11  ye  have  ?  Here's  port 
from  Oporto — pure — none  av  yer  vile  Sax- 
on compounds ;  likewise  here's  sherry  from 
Xeres.  Here's  marsahi  an'  maraschino. 
Here's  champagne  an'  cognac.  Here's  also 
whiskey.  What  d'ye  say,  me  lord  ?  Is  it 
whiskey  ?  Divil  a  doubt !  I  knowed  it 
— begorra,  I  knowed  it  by  the  twinkle  av 


j-er  eye.  Thrust  to  mc  for  flndin'  that  out ; 
suro  it'8  mcself  that  can  tell  a  conjaynial 
spirit,  so  it  is." 

Hereupon  "His  Alajcsty  "  began  to  brew 
a  tumbler  of  toddy.  Uussell,  who  was  nn 
e.\i)erienced  hand,  gazed  upon  the  royal 
proceedings  with  a  critical  eye,  but  found 
nothing  wanting.  The  royal  hand  was  as 
experienced  as  his  own.  The  drink  that 
resulted  was  etpial,  to  say  the  least  of  it,  to 
anything  that  ha<l  ever  touched  his  pulate. 
He  tasteil,  and  felt  like  a  new  man.  He 
tasted  again,  and  all  his  sorrows  vanished. 
He  tasted  for  a  third  time,  and  there  came 
over  him  a  I'eeling  of  (leace,  and  content, 
and  brotherly  love  to  all  mankind. 

"His  .Majesty"  had  also  been  tasting, 
and  with  every  taste  the  royal  mind  seem- 
ed to  assume  a  new  phase. 

"In  our  coort,"  .said  "His  Majesty,"  "as 
at  prisint  constiehooted,  we  cannot  otler  the 
injuieemints  that  are  held  forth  at  Vienna, 
IJerlin,  an'  St.  Paytersburg;  but  we  can 
furnish  some  lads  that  can  bale  the  wor- 
ruld.  I'll  like  to  liowld  a  coort  an'  have 
the  ladies.  We'd  have  a  ball.  Oh,  but  it's 
mcself  that's  fond  av  dancin'.  Do  ye  dance, 
me  lord  i  Sure  but  there's  nothin'  in  life 
like  it!  An'  more's  the  pity  that  I  can't 
get  here  the  craim  av  our  Spanish  aristoc- 
racy. But  we're  too  far  away  entirely.  As 
for  dancin' — begorra,  I've  seen  dancin'  in 
my  time  that  'ud  take  yer  head  off  I 

"  'Oh,  it  bates  nil  tlie  lIliRant  dancin' 
That  iver  was  danced  at  a  ball, 
Whin  Teddy  came  ont  to  the  i  luwd, 

Au"  danced  upon  notliin'  at  all  — 
Wid  11  lilnipin  cravat  round  his  neck 

That  the  hanjninn  had  llxcd  mi  his  head; 
Am'  s-o  he  kept  kickiu'  an'  prancin' 
Long  uflher  he  onjjht  to  be  dead. 

Whoor-ooo-ooo ;"' 

As  "His  Majesty"  trolled  out  this,  Rus- 
sell could  not  help  feeling  that  it  was  de- 
cidedly out  of  accord  with  his  royal  char- 
acter, and  ventured  even  to  hint  as  much. 
Upon  this  tears  started  into  the  royal  eye. 
"llis  Majesty"  took  Russell's  hand,  telling 
him,  with  deep  emotion,  that  lie  was  a  true 
friend,  and  that  he  would  strive  to  profit 
by  his  friendship. 

"An'  oh,  ye  thafe  of  the  wnrruld,"  con- 
tinued "His  Majesty,"  suddenly  changing 
the  conversation,  "ye'vc  played  the  mis- 
chief wid  thim  btnids.  Where  have  ye  hid 
thim,  ye  rogue  ?  But  niver  mind.  I'll  be 
ayvin  wid  ye  yit.  How  much  are  they  ? 
Thirty  thousand  pounds !  Begorra,  I'll 
give  ye  that  amount  tor  thim.     I'd  like  to 


58 


A  CASTLE  IN  SPAIN. 


take  up  tliiiu  bonds  for  the  credit  av  our 
nionarcliy  an'  our  kingdom.  I'll  tell  ye 
what  I'll  do.  I'll  give  ye  an  ordlier  on  our 
lord  high  treasurer  for  the  whole  amount 
in  cash!  That's  what  I'll  do,  so  I  will. 
Ye  naydn't  give  yerself  any  more  throulile. 
I'll  give  ye  the  hard  cash  through  the  lord 
high  treasurer — that's  me  way.    I'll  do  it !" 

"  His  Majesty  "  here  naxed  another  glass 
of  toddy.  After  a  few  ilraughls  he  assumed 
a  more  dignified  attitude. 

"3Ie  lord,"  said  he,  "  I  should  like  to  ask 
ye  nov,',  ouite  infarrumally,  what  there  is 
to  prayvint  u  raycognition  by  your  govern- 
mint  av  our  claims  an'  our  rights.  We  are 
winuin"  our  way  back  to  the  throne  an' 
crown  av  our  ancistors.  A  lawless  mob 
howlds  our  capital,  but  they'll  be  kicked 
out  afore  a  month  av  Sundays.  I  should 
like  to  make  a  frindly  agraymint  through 
you,  me  lord,  wid  your  government.  Whin 
I  git  to  be  king,  I  agray  to  cling  to  an  alli- 
ance offinsive  an'  dayfmsive  wid  your  gov- 
ernmint.  There's  one  common  inimy,  the 
raypublic  av  America,  an'  it's  ayqually  hos- 
tile to  both  av  us.  We,  as  sole  repraysint- 
ative  av  Conservatism  an'  the  owld  proi- 
mayval  order,  will  ally  ourselves  %vid  you 
agin  the  conunon  inimy  for  paiee  an'  for 
war.  What  do  ye  say  to  that  ?  IJegorra, 
it's  a  fine  offer  intoirely !  Ye'll  not  find 
another  livin'  (lotentate  that  "11  nuike  it. 
Bismarck  won't.  M'3Iah(>n— Irishman 
though  he  is  — won't.  The  Czar  won't. 
Franz  Joseph  won't.  So  there's  oidy  us. 
If  ye  don't  accept  our  i)roposals  we'll  go 
over  to  the  inimy.  We'll  buy  President 
Grant.  We'll  make  a  dayscint  on  Ireland. 
I  know  a  man  that  'ud  be  proud  to  take 
command  av  the  invadin'  armies.  His 
name's  O'Toolc,  that's  now  in  the  Carlist 
camp,  an'  a  divil  av  a  feller  he  is.  He'd 
sweep  Ireland  from  one  ind  av  it  to  the 
other.  Give  me  O'Toolc,  says  I,  an'  I'll  bate 
the  worrulil  in  arrums,  says  I.  Begorra,  I 
would.     An'  now  fill  yer  glass,  me  boy.'' 

"His  Majesty"  mi.\cd  another  tumbler 
for  liussell. 

"  Driids,  me  lord,"  said  he,  "  to  the  fairest 
av  the  fair." 

And  v,\t\\  these  words  lie  swallowed  an- 
other tumltlerful,  while  Russell  did  the  same. 

"By  'the  fa'.est  av  the  fair,'"  explained 
"  His  Majesty,''  as  he  proceeded  to  mix  an- 
other drink,  "I  mean  yer  daughter  —  the 
jjairlcss  Lady  Katie." 

"  My  ward, '  Your  Majesty,' "  said  Russell, 
correcting  him. 


"All  the  same,  mc  lo.'d,"  .said '' His  Maj- 
osty ;"  "  it  was  a  slip  av  the  tongue.  It  was 
mo  heart  that  spoke.  Listen  to  me  now. 
I've  somethin'  to  tell  ye.     It's  a  pro-posal." 

"  His  Majesty  "  paused  for  a  moment,  thca 
took  a  fresh  drink,  then  laid  down  the  glass, 
then  sighed  heavily,  and  then  took  another 
drink. 

"^le  lord,'' said  he,  in  a  solemn  tone,  "ye 
know,  no  doubt,  that  we  are  a  bachelor. 
Ye  don't  know  it?  Well,  wc  are.  I  say, 
^^■e  are  a  bachelor.  We've  been  lookin'  all 
around  for  ages  aflher  a  partner  —  a  r'y'l 
consort.  All  the  iligible  faymales  av  all  the 
coorts  av  Europe  have  been  solicitin'  our 
alliance.  But  none  av  thim  wor  shuitable 
No.  Without  love,  we  won't  marry  —  we 
won't  adopt  the  infernal  system  av  state 
marriages.  Where  our  heart  isn't  concern 
ed  our  r'y'l  hand  don't  go — not  a  bit  av  it. 
Now,  we  niver  saw  the  woman  yet  tlitit 
we'd  be  willin'  to  raise  to  the  throne  av 
Spain  outil  we  saw  yer  ward— the  lovely, 
the  charrumin,  the  baywitehin'  Lady  Ka- 
tie. Nay,  me  lord,  start  not,  an'  don't  su.s- 
pectusavonjnep'-aycipitation.  We  haven't 
addhressed  the  Lady  Katie  yet  on  that  point. 
AVe'vc  acted  in  accardence  wid  r'y'l  usage, 
an'  now  make  a  farriimal  ofl'er  av  our  alli- 
ance to  the  parents  an'  gyaijians  av  the 
lovely  being,  Wliit  do  ye  say,  me  lord! 
W"\\\  ye  give  yer  consint  to  our  ])roposal, 
an'  allow  yer  ward  to  become  the  CJuane 
av  Spain  ?" 

At  this  Russell  was  quite  overwhelmed. 
He  had  listened  with  open  mouth  to  this 
la.st  address  of"  Ilis  Majesty,"  and  at  leugtli. 
when  it  all  culminated  in  this  direct  and 
unmistakable  i)roposal,  he  was  so  astound- 
ed that  he  didn't  know  what  to  say.  He 
therefore  sat  silent  and  staring  witli  open 
mouth,  until  at  length,  not  knowing  any- 
thing better  to  do,  he  mechanically  raised 
the  tumbler  of  toddy  and  poured  the  whole 
of  it  into  that  open  mouth. 

"  That's  right !"  exclaimed  "  His  :Majes- 
ty."  heartily,  and  he  at  once  began  to  re- 
plenish the  empty  glasses;  "an'  mind  you. 
me  boy,  it's  as  much  for  your  intlierest,  iiic 
lord,  as  it  is  for  hers.  It's  a  great  thing  fur 
a  young  gyerrel  to  become  the  Qiiane  av 
Spain ;  an'  as  for  yerself,  why,  av  coorse 
there's  no  ind  to  the  hoiiors  an'  dignities 
an'  lucr.wtive  oflices  that  ye'd  be  afther  get- 
tin'  how  Hi  av.  Ye'd  be  a  kind  av  father- 
in-law  to  the  Quane.  Ye'd  be  made  Jlin- 
isther  av  War  or  nnythin'  else  ye  axed  for 
Ye'd  be  made  a  Juke  av  Gibraltar  an'  Prince 


'X^^^ 


"  ItUSSKI.I,    FKI.I,    UPON    HIS    KNKKS, 


'•TI1K8K    TWO    HAD    THAT    BANQUET    AIL    TU    TUKMrtKLVKS.' 


A  CASTLE  IN  SPAIN'. 


av  the  Pyrenees.  Yc'd  belong  to  the  Privy 
Council.  Yc'cl  be  tlic  cliiel'  lulviser  av  our 
I'y'l  Miijesty  —  tluit's  ine,  ye  know;  au'  av 
coorse  it  isn't  every  clay  that  ye  have  such 
a  cliancc  as  tiiut." 

"  His  Majesty"  paused  lor  a  reply. 

Russell  stared  li.xedly  before  him  into 
viinmcy,  but  uttered  not  a  ■word.  Either 
the  Iiiyh  honor  that  had  been  proposed,  or 
tlic  brilliant  future  that  had  been  laid  open, 
or  else  the  whiskey  toddy,  or  all  three  com- 
bined, had  overcome  him  utterly ;  and  so 
he  sat  there  staring  and  silent. 

"Sure, I  know  what  yer  thinkin'  about," 
said  "  His  Majestj-."  "  There's  only  one  ob- 
jection, an'  that's  religion.  But  that's  noth- 
in',"  he  continued,  with  airy  and  pagan  in- 
dill'eronce ;  "we  can  arrange  all  that  aisy 
enough.  Love's  stronger  than  religion  any 
day.    Ye  know  the  owld  song." 

And  "His  Majesty"'  trolled  out  one  of 
his  peculiar  melodies : 

"There  was  a  lliillyslinunnti  spinster 
'I'liat  fell  in  love  vvici  a  I'rodes'an'  niin'slc; 
lint  tlie  ))ra>te  lul'iis^eil  to  publish  llie  liaim-', 
Ho  they  both  ran  away  to  tlie  Mnssalinans." 

After  this  "His  Majesty"  went  on  in  a 
r,ii>turous  way  to  expatiate  upon  the  subject 
of  Katie,  and  in  tins  way  the  remainder  of 
tile  evening  was  taken  tip.  liussi.'ll  said 
but  little:  Avhat  he  said  was  chiefly  an  in- 
coherent jumlilc  which  expressed  with  tears 
of  gratitude  a  full  acceptance  of"  His  Maj- 
esty's'' oft'er.  At  the  same  time  he  was 
alile  to  point  out  that  in  England  it  was 
tile  fashion  to  consult  the  lady  herself,  and 
to  insist  that  "  His  Majesty"  should  see  Ka- 
tie herself,  so  as  to  get  her  consent. 

An  .1  this  "  His  ]\Iajesty ''  swore  that  he 
would  do. 


CHAPTEIl  XVn. 

j  now  HARIIY  FINDS  HIMSKLF  VKUV  .MTCn  OVEIt- 
KSTIMATKD,  AND  AITKIIWAKD  LlUmS  Ul'O.S  A 
(a.on.MV   MYSTERY. 

0.\  the  day  after  the  deparurc  of  Rus- 
sell, Harry  was  invited  to  an  interview  with 
tin;  chief  A  guard  of  six  Carllsts  escorted 
l:ini  to  the  hall.  Here  there  was  an  impos- 
ing scene.  All  along  the  walls  svere  lines 
of  armed  men  in  strange  wihl  costumes; 
overhead  rose  the  vaulted  roof,  crusted  over 

hvitli  the  moulil  of  ages;  while  at  one  end 
tlicrc  hung  a  canopy  formed  of  flic  gorgeous 

[buuncr  of  Castile.     Under  this  stood  a  fig- 


ure in  the  uniform  of  a  general  otHcer,  and 
as  Harry  drew  near  he  recognized  in  him 
the  Carlist  chief  At  the  same  moment  a 
shout  rang  through  the  liall,  a  hundred 
rilh.'s  fell  with  a  crash  u])on  the  stony  jiave- 
nieiit,  and  then  followed  a  loud,  long  cry, 
"  Viva  el  Rey  !" 

Harry's  familiarity  willi  Spanish  had  al- 
ready been  made  known  to  the  chief,  who 
now  addressed  him  in  thtit  languiige.  What, 
however,  was  the  ainazenii'nt  (jf  Harry  at 
learning  the  astounding  fact  thtit  the  chief 
claimed  to  be  no  less  u  person  than  Don 
Carlos  himself,  and  assumed  the  tiirs  and 
claimed  the  honors  of  roytilty.  In  tiddilioii 
to  this,  while  the  chief  claimed  such  honors, 
his  ruile  followers  bestowed  them  with 
readiness  and  even  enthusiasm.  That  this 
could  be  anything  else  than  a  ])retence — 
that  this  rude  chief  could  really  be  the 
courtly  anel  gallant  Bourbon  seemed  to 
Harry  an  utter  absurdity;  and  in  tidditioii 
to  this,  the  descriptions  which  he  had  heard 
of  the  real  Don  Carlos  did  not  at  all  accord 
with  the  appearance  of  this  man.  Yet,  if 
the  cliiim  was  ;i  false  one,  its  very  audacity 
showed  him  the  possible  peril  that  sur- 
rounded his  party;  fir  if  their  captor  was 
so  unblushing  and  iins<'rupulous  ;i  vilhdn, 
what  hope  could  tliey  ha\e  of  escape  ? 

Speaking  then  in  this  way  as  though  he 
were  Don  Carlos,  and  assuming  at  the  same 
time  the  manner  and  stylo  of  u  king,  the 
Carlist  chief  said  much  about  his  sorrow  at 
being  forced  to  detain  thein,  and  also  ex- 
patiated upon  the  difficulties  of  his  OAvn 
position.  Finally,  he  inf(n-med  Harry  that 
a  tax  hail  been  imposed  on  all  foreigners 
to  help  pay  the  expenses  of  tiie  war. 

To  this  Harry  listened  attentively,  and 
was  not  surprised  to  find  that  the  chief  ex- 
pected a  money  payment.  Whether  he 
called  it  a  tax  or  any  other  name,  it  iunount- 
ed  to  the  same  thing,  and  beciime  a  ran- 
som for  their  lives.  If  he  and  his  party 
were  thus  held  as  prisoners  to  ransom,  the 
act  amounted,  of  course,  to  nothing  else 
than  lirigandage,  and  this  Carlist  chief  was 
nothing  better  than  a  brigand.  Against 
being  seized  and  held  as  ti  prisoner  on  such 
terms  Harry  could  have  offered  no  end  of 
argtiments,  of  course,  together  with  pro- 
tests, objections,  and  threats;  but  he  had 
far  too  clear  a  head  to  think  of  such  n 
thing.  He  knew  well  the  uselessness  of 
mere  arguments  iu  ft  case  like  this,  where 
he  had  nothing  stronger  behind,  and  there- 
fore he  sought  to  find  out  just  what  las  po- 


CO 


A  CASTLE  IN  SPAIN. 


sition  wns.     So,  first  of  .ill,  lie  iisked  wlmt 
niijfht  bu  the  iimount  of  his  own  ransom. 

The  answer  to  this  question  almost  took 
his  brciitli  away.  To  his  amaz.ement  and 
horror,  the  ransom  named  for  him  was  no 
less  a  sum  than  ten  thousand  pounds. 

"  AVill  '  Your  ^lajcsty '  pardon  me,"'  said 
Harry,  witli  great  olisequiousness,  and  giv- 
ing to  his  captor  the  royal  honors  which  he 
claimed — "  will  '  Your  Majesty '  jiardon  me 
if  I  assure  '  Your  ]\Iajesty  '  that  the  amount 
of  my  ransom  is  so  eniU'mous  that  it  is  ut- 
terly ini])ossilile  for  me  to  pay  it  'i" 

At  this  "His  Majesty"  smiled,  and  pro- 
ceeded to  tell  Harry  the  ransoms  fixed  for 
the  others:  these  were— for  Russell  and  his 
party  thirty  thousand  pounds,  and  for  Ash- 
by  one  thousand.  The  name  "Lord  lUis- 
sell"  whicii  "His  Majesty"  applied  to  that 
worthy  sounded  strange  to  Harry,  but  this 
was  a  trille  coini)ared  with  other  tilings, 
and  so,  Mithout  making  any  relerence  to 
this,  he  replied : 

"Thirty  thousand  pounds!  I  assure  'Your 
JIajcsty'  that  Russell  has  not  the  fourth 
part  of  that  in  all  the  world." 

"  His  ^lajesty  "  looked  incredulous,  and 
told  Harry  that  "Lord  Russell"  had  him- 
.self  put  his  own  wealth  at  two  hundred 
tliousand,  and  that  of  his  ward  at  lifty 
thousaiui. 

At  this  Harry's  heart  quaked  within  him 
for  fear  of  Katie.  Now  he  began  to  see 
more  clearly  the  danger  that  there  was. 
Russell,  he  thought,  had  l)cen  indulging  in 
.some  foolish  gasconade  about  himself,  and 
had  let  out  the  .secret  of  Katie's  fortune. 
He  wondered  why  Ashby  had  been  let  off 
on  so  small  a  sum;  and  thinking  tliat  he 
might  not  have  heard  correctly,  he  asked 
again  about  tliis.  Tlie  reply  confirmed 
what  he  had  heard,  and  Harry  could  not 
help  making  a  remark  aliout  the  strange 
injustice  of  e.xaeting  ten  thousand  from  liim 
and  only  one  thousand  from  Ashliy.  This 
at  once  was  noticed  by  "  His  Majesty,"  Avho, 
however,  proposed,  not  to  lessen  the  ran- 
som of  Harry,  but  to  raise  that  of  Ashby. 
He  eagerly  asked  Harry  about  the  wealth 
of  his  friend. 

"  Oh,  I  don't  know,"  said  Harry,  who 
saw  that  it  would  not  help  himself  to  have 
Ashby's  ransom  raised.  "All  I  do  know  is 
this,  which  I  assure  '  Your  Majesty'  is  truth, 
that  to  nic  ii  ransom  of  ten  thousand 
pounds  is  nn  impossible  sum,  and  means 
simply  death.'' 

"His  Majesty''  smiled,  assenting  at  the 


same  time  to  the  statement  that  non-pay- 
ment was  equivalent  to  death. 

"In  that  case,"  said  Harry,  "may  I  ask 
one  favor  V 

"His  Miijesty"  graciously  assented. 

"  I  should  like,"  said  Harry,  "to  have  my 
valise.  There's  nothing  in  it  that  I  care' 
about  except  some  cigars—" 

"His  Majesty"  interrui)ted  with  a  Avave 
of  the  royal  Jiand,  and  granted  his  request. 
After  this  Harry  was  informed  that  om; 
Meek  was  allowed  for  time  in  which  to  pro- 
cure the  ransom,  and  that  if  it  were  not 
forth-coming  at  the  end  of  that  time,  he  anil 
his  friends  would  all  be  shot. 

After  this  Harry  M'as  dismissed  to  his 
own  apartment. 

The  dread  sentence  and  its  possible  re- 
sult interfered  neither  with  the  digestion 
nor  the  sleep  of  tlie  light-hearted  Harry. 
That  night  he  went  to  Ijed  and  slept  the 
sleep  of  the  just.  He  had  the  bed  anel  thu 
room  now  all  to  himself,  and  would  have 
slept  till  morning  Inid  he  not  been  roused 
by  a  very  singular  circumstance. 

As  lie  lay  sleeiiing,  it  seemed  to  liim  that 
there  was  a  touch  on  his  forehead  of  some- 
thing like  a  hand,  and  a  murmur  in  his  ear 
of  something  like  a  voice,  and,  what  is  more, 
a  woman's  voice.  In  a  moment  he  was  wide 
awake,  and  had  started  U])  and  was  staring 
around.  The  moonbeams  streamed  througli 
the  narrow  windows  into  the  room  and  fell 
in  broad  stri|)s  of  light  upon  the  stony  floor, 
difl'using  a  mild  and  mellow  lustre  in  some 
parts,  yet  leaving  the  rest  of  the  great  room 
in  obscurity.  And  here,  across  those  strips 
of  light  and  through  those  moonbeams, 
Harry  plainly  discerned  a  figure  which  w:i^ 
gliding  swiftly  along.  It  was  a  femiilc 
figure,  and  it  was  light  and  fragile,  while 
long  dusky  drapery  floated  around  it.  So 
completely  overwhelnKM.l  was  Harry  with 
amazement  and  bewilderment  at  this  siglit, 
that  for  full  five  minutes  he  sat  without 
moving  and  stared  full  before  him.  Then 
he  put  his  feet  out  on  the  floor,  and,sittiii.;r 
on  the  side  of  the  bed.  slowly  ejaciilateil ; 

"Well, by  Jove'." 

Suddenly  he  started  up  and  sprang  to- 
ward the  jilacc  where  he  had  last  seen  tlic 
vision.  ]5ut  now  there  was  nothing  visi- 
ble :  the  figure,  whatever  it  was,  had  disiij)- 
peared.  Now,  Harry  had  a  strong,  roliu>t, 
liealthy  nature,  a  good  digestion,  tougli 
nerves,  and  he  was  not  in  the  least  super- 
stitious ;  yet  this  event  certainly  made  him 
feel  as  he  had  never  felt  before.      It  wa-^ 


A  CASTLE  IN  SPAIN. 


61 


tlic  siuldcnncss  of  it,  as  well  as  tlie  incom- 
iiri'licnsiliility.  lie  had  to  assure  liiniselt" 
over  and  over  again  tliut  he  was  really 
awake,  and  then  he  had  to  repeateilly  re- 
call the  vap;ue  and  indistinct  im2)ressions 
that  had  been  made. 

It  Avas  certainly  most  puzzlinix.      How 
liail  any  one  contrived  to  enter?    And  why 
sliould  a  woman  come?     AVas  it  a  wonnin, 
then— that  figure— with  its  noiseless  mo- 
tion, its  strange  fragility,  its  flowing,  lloat- 
inir.  clouil-like  drajjeries  i     Or  was  it  some 
art'ection  of  his  own  disordered  senses  that 
had  wrought  out  an  ajiparition  from  his 
I  own   fancy  i      It  reminded  him   of  those 
weird    and  grisly   scenes    in   tlio    old    ro- 
mances which  he  had  read  in  his  boyhood, 
I  such  as  the  "Mysteries  of  Udolplio,"  the 
Koinancc  of  the  Forest,"  or  the  "Castle 
lot Utranto."'    This  castle  might  well  be  the 
scene  of  such  a  mystery.    Perhaj)s  the  late 
inciilent  was  the  revival  of  some  dormant 
moMiory.  arising  out  of  that  lialf-forgotten 
I  reading  in  the  old  romances.     It  may  have 
llioon  a  dream,  projecting  itself  forward  into 
lliis  waking  hours. 

In  this  way  Harry  puzzlcil  his  brain  for 
Isonie  time,  sitting  on  the  side  of  the  bed, 
liiiystilied,  and  (piite  at  a  loss  what  to  do. 
JBut,  as  he  was  essentially  a  man  of  action, 
llie  soon  grew  weary  of  idle   speculation, 
Inncl  determined  to   search   more  actively 
the  mystery,  and  if  possible  sift  it  to 
tlie  bottom.    So  he  drew  a  match  and  light- 
;il  his  torch.    The  flame  flared  up  brightly 
ftiul  flung  a  lurid  glow  all  around.      Ilold- 
^11!,'  this  high  above  his  head,  Harry  walked 
aiiout,  peering  into  the  darkness,  and  scan- 
ning every  nook  and  corner  of  the  large 
fip:utnicnt.     Hut  he  could  see  nothing.     It 
Was  empty.    The  shuflling  noise  of  his  own 
liintsfeps  as  he  moved  along  was  the  only 
Boinul,  and  no  living  thing  met  his  eye.    It 
kvas  plain  that  he  was  alone,  and  that  no 
pthcr  could  lie  there  with  him. 

Kut  that  figure  ?  Where  was  it  ?  AVhith- 
fcr  had  it  gone  'i  Going  back  again  to  the 
led,  he  marked  the  line  of  its  motion,  and 
biiccived  that  it  had  Iteen  directed  toward 
|1k'  great  firei)lace :  at  that  spot  it  had  faded 
ay  from  his  view.  What  had  been  the 
(iuisc  of  this? 

Back  again  he  went  to  the  great  firc- 
iliice  and  examined  it  carefully.  The  very 
Emling  of  the  old  romances  to  which  he 
ad  attributed  this  njiparition  now  served 
'  give  him  a  valuable  suggestion  ;  for,  ac- 
prding  to  those  important  writings,  wher- 


ever there  is  a  ghost  there  is  also  a  myste- 
rious subterranean  passage,  or  secret  cham- 
ber, or  concealed  door.  It  was  for  this  that 
Harry  now  searched,  to  see  if  any  of  the 
nuKdiinery  of  the  castle  of  L'doli)ho  might 
be  found  existing  in  a  castle  in  Spain. 

He  looked  all  over  the  floor,  but  found 
nothing.  He  examined  the  back  and  the 
sides  of  the  fireplace,  but  nothing  was  visi- 
ble save  the  stony  surface,  which  every- 
where had  the  same  massive  exterior.  At 
length  his  attention  was  arrested  by  those 
stones  already  mentioned  which  projected 
one  above  the  other  from  the  side  of  the 
chimnc}'.  At  first  it  seemed  to  him  as 
though  they  might  be  movable,  for  he 
was  on  the  lookout  for  moval.)le  stones  or 
secret  doors,  wddcli  might  slide  away  in 
the  "Udolpho"  fashion  and  disclose  secret 
passages  or  hiiUlen  chambers.  He  there- 
fore tried  each  of  these  in  various  ways, 
but  found  them  all  alike,  fixed  and  innnov- 
able. 

But  now,  as  he  stood  ti'ving  the  topmost 
stone,  with  his  torch  held  aloft,  the  glare 
of  the  light  shone  U|)()n  the  sides  of  the 
chimney  and  disclosed  that  very  opening 
Mhich  Kussell  had  already  discovered.  At 
first  he  thought  that  it  might  be  a  side 
Hue,  or  a  ventilator,  or  a  contrivance  to 
help  the  draught;  but  innnediately  after, 
the  thought  flashed  njion  him  tiiat  the 
mysterious  figure  might  be  concealed  here. 

In  an  instant  he  began  to  clamber  up  the 
stones,  full  of  eager  excitement.  On  reach- 
ing the  top  he  found,  to  his  amazement, 
that  he  was  in  a  deep  niche  which  ran  into 
the  wall  several  feet,  and  was  high  enough 
for  him  to  stand  in.  Into  this  he  peered 
eagerly,  tliinking  that  he  might  discover 
his  mysterious  visitant,  but  he  saw  noth- 
ing, lint  as  he  thus  stood  gazing  into  the 
niche  with  sharpest  scrutiny,  he  saw  some- 
thing wdiite  lying  on  the  Hoor  only  a  few 
feet  from  him.  He  stooped  forward  and 
picked  it  up.  It  was  a  parcel,  wrai)ped  up 
in  stiff  paper,  about  twelve  inches  long,  si.\ 
wide,  and  one  in  thickness.  It  was  evi- 
dently a  collection  of  documents  of  some 
sort.  Full  of  wonder  at  this  strange  discov- 
ery, Harry  now  forgot  all  about  the  mys- 
terious ajiparition,  and  thought  no  more 
about  the  strangeness  of  the  place  where  he 
was.  He  was  only  eager  to  learn  the  con- 
tents of  the  package,  and  to  investigate 
them  without  being  seen.  Although  he 
did  not  believe  that  any  eye  could  behold 
him  iu  that  dark  recess,  yet;  he  felt  afraid, 


62 


A  CASTLi:   IN  SPAIN. 


nevertheless,  that  some  spy  miyht  be  lurk- 
ing near — some  one  like  his  late  vibitunt — 
and  tlicrefon,'  he  clcscentleLl  once  more  to 
the  room,  where  he  lelt  safer.  Here,  after 
going  all  arouml,  and  peering  ont  of  every 
window,  and  looking  also  and  listening  at 
the  door,  he  felt  satislied  that  he  was  un- 
observed, lie  now  went  into  a  corner  of 
the  room  at  the  head  of  the  bed  and  knelt 
down,  facing  the  corner  in  such  a  way  that , 
he  cou  .1  conceal  the  package  while  exam- 
ining it.  Here,  w  ilii  eager  hands,  he  tore  it 
open,  and  the  contents  lay  before  him.  I 

These  contents  con>isted  of  a  numljer  of 
printed  documents,  all  folded  up  so  as  to 
be  of  unifonu  size.     One  of  these  ho  took 
up  :ind  o[)ened.     It  was  in  Spanl^h,  with 
formidable  llouri^hing  signatures  and  im- ' 
mense  seal.      One  glance  was  enough  to 
show  hini  what  it  was.     It  was  a  bond,  in  ; 
which  the  Spanish  Government  otVercd  to 
pay  one  thousand  pounds  English  sterling  ' 
money  at  the  end  of  thirty  years,  Id  the 
Ijearer;  and  at  the  bottom  was  a  great  ar- 
ray of  coupons  for  semi-annual  interest  on 
the  above,  the  rate  of  interest  being  six  per 
cent.,  and  consecpiently  each  coupon  being 
lor  thirty  poumls.  j 

A  great  ligiit  now  flashed  in  upon  Har- 
ry's mind.     Hastily  he  counted  the  ilocu- 1 
ments,  and  found  them  to  be  lliirtv  in  num- , 
bcr.     Tiie  amount  represented  was  there- , 
fore  thirty  thousand  pounds.     He  under- 
stood it  all.     This  was  Katie's  nxmey,  of 
which  he  had  heard.    Kussell  had  been  car-  j 
rj-ing  it  about  his  person,  as  he  had  said, 
and  had  been  afraid  of  losing  it.     He  had 
refused  to  make  Harry  his  confidant  as  to 
liis  intentions.     He   had  found   out  that 
niche  somehow,  and  had  hidden  there  the 
precious  jiackage.     It  was  all  Katie's,  antl 
had  now  by  a  strange  chance  i'allen  into  ' 
his  own  hands.    It  .struck  Harry  as  at  once 
very  strange,  and  very  pleasant,  that  all  Ka- 
tie's fortune  should  thus  be  placed  in  his 
care,  and  that  he  had  thus  become  its  guar- 
dian.    He  remembered  all  that  Ashby  had 
said  about  llussell's  designs  to  obtain  Ka- ; 
tie's  money  for  himself;  and  although  he 
had  not  altogetlier  believed  Ashby,  still  he 
thought  tlnit  the  money  was  all  the  safer 
from  being  out  of  KusseU's  possession.    Rus- 
sell was  not  altogether  trustworthy,  whili^ 
ho  himself  would  be  loyal  in  this  trust,  and 
guard  it  with  his  hearfs-blood. 

At  length  he  once  more  folded  up  the 
papers,  and  then,  as  he  held  the  package  in 
his  hands,  there  arose  the  great  and  impor- 


tant question — what  was  he  to  do  with  ii ! 
To  carry  it  about  on  his  person  was,  oC 
course,  not  to  be  thought  of.  He  had  al- 
ready been  examined  once,  and  had  r.n 
security  that  he  would  not  be  examiudl 
again.  This  made  it  necessary  to  liml 
some  place  where  they  might  Ik;  conceal- 
eil  until  it  should  be  safe  to  reclaim  thcni. 
As  for  concealment,  it  could  not  be  fomul 
in  the  room.  He  could  not  thrust  it  inlo 
the  sti'aw  of  the  bed,  for  it  woidd  be  sure 
to  be  found.  Kince  he  had  been  here  tlif 
bed  had  already  been  examined  twiiu. 
'I'here  remained,  then,  only  the  chimney, 
and  to  this  place  he  once  more  directcil 
his  steps  in  search  of  a  i)laco  of  conceiil- 
meat. 

He  climbed  up  and  advanced  a  few  paces 
to  the  end  of  the  niche.  On  reaching  this 
he  found,  to  his  amazement,  that  it  was  not 
a  niche,  Ijut  a  passage-way  which  ran  on 
for  so  long  a  distance  that,  as  he  peered 
down  into  it,  he  coulel  see  no  end.  Tiiij 
passage-way  served  also  to  lessen  the  my- 
tery  of  his  late  visitant.  He  now  thouglit 
that  this  visitant  had  been  one  of  the  Cm- 
list  band,  who  had  come  in,  while  he  Ava; 
asleej),on  a  reconnoitring  exi)etlition.  Yet, 
how'jvcr  this  may  have  been,  it  did  noi 
prevent  him  from  searching  for  a  ])lace  of 
concealment  in  this  passage-way.  It  miul; 
not  be  a  good  i)lacc,  the  hidelen  documein- 
might  still  be  liable  to  discovery,  yet  it  \v;i 
the  only  jilace,  and  so  there  was  no  clmii 
in  the  matter. 

As  Harry  looked  along  this  passagc-w: 
he  came  to  a  huge  ])rojecting  stone,  whlcii 
seemed  as  though  it  had  been  dislodgcil 
in  some  way.     So  large  was  this  stt)ne,  aiiii 
so  ])eculiar  was  its  dislocation,  that  Ilmrv 
could  oidy  think  of  an  carth(piid<e  as  iir. 
adequate  cause.    It  was  about  eight  feet  in 
length  by  four  feet  in  height,  and  one  ew 
jutl 'd  forth,  while  the  other  end  w;is  sunk 
en  in,  behind  the  surface  of  the  wall,  in 
corresponding  manner.     At  the  end  wlie/ 
the  stone  jutted  out  there  was  a  crcvioi 
a  few  inches  in  Avidth,  which  seemed  m:^ 
adajjted  for  a  place  of  concealment,  am 
ujion  this  he  at  once  decided.     But  to  \):i\ 
;  vent  the  possibility  of  discovery  it  was  nK 
essary  to  thrust  the  package  far  in,  wliii 
at  the  same  time  it  must  be  arranged  i] 
such  a  way  that  it  cotdd  be  drawn  for: 
again.     This  could  be  done  by  means  (;| 
the  string  with  which  it  was  bound  uf 
This  he  took  off,  and  tying  one  end  to  tl 
package,  he  thrust  it  into  the  crevice  as  i 


"UK    ST(K)PKI)    KlinVAIlK    AM)    I'ICKKI)    IT    11'. 


I 


*■« 


A  CASTLE  IN  SPAIN. 


63 


as  lie  couki,  quite  out  of  sight,  leaving  the 
end  of  the  string  luuiging  out  alwut  one 
iiu-ii,  in  such  ii  way  that  it  was  discernible 
to  no  one  except  himself. 


CHAPTER  XVIII. 

IS  ^\I1K•1I  HAIIUY  VIKLDS  TO  AN  UNCONTIIDLLAULK 
IMrUI.SK,  AND  UISKS  HIS  I.IKK  IN  A  DAIiINU  AD- 
VKNTlItK. 

IIauuy  now  felt  perfectly  secure  ahout 
the  package.     It  seemed  to  him  to  be  safe- 
ly hidtlen,  beyond  all  possibility  of  discov- 
ery ;  for  who  could  ever  venture  into  this 
passage-way  <  and  if  any  one  should,  how 
could  that  package  be  seen  ?     Still,  as  to  i 
any  one  venturing  here,  he  had  his  doubts. 
Tliere  was  that  mysterious  visit.      What  j 
did  that  mean  {     It  was  a  female  figure —  I 
a  woman ;  young,  too,  light,  active.     Who 
could  it  have  been  ?     It  must  have  been  | 
some   one   familiar  with  the   castle.      He 
now  felt  convinced  that  this  figure  was  no 
apparition,  that  it  was  some  living  person,  j 
tiiat  she  had  come  down  through  this  very  : 
passage-way,  and  had  cntereil  his  room, 
and  touchetl  him  and  whispered  to  him. 
So  much  was  clear. 

And  now  belbre  him  lay  this  passage- 
way. He  was  resolved  to  explore  it  as  far 
as  ])Ossible,  so  as  to  unfold  the  mystery. 
But  who  was  this  visitor '{ — a  woman  !  Was 
she  friend  or  foe  ?  If  a  foe,  why  had  she 
come  ?  W'hat  did  she  expect,  or  why  had 
siie  spoken  so  gently  and  roused  him  so 
(juietly  ?  If  a  friend,  why  had  she  fled  so 
hurriedly,  without  a  sign  or  word  ?  The 
more  he  thought  it  over,  the  more  he  fi'lt ' 
convinced  that  his  visitor  had  made  a  mis- 
take ;  tliat  she  had  come  expecting  to  lind 
some  one  fflse,  and  had  been  startled  at ! 
the  discovery  of  her  mistake.  Perhaps 
Jlrs.  Kussell  had  bribed  one  of  tlie  Carlist 
wninen  to  carry  a  message  to  her  husl)and.  j 
Tiiat  seemed  the  most  natural  way  of  ac- 
counting for  it. 

It  was  evident  to  Harry  that  this  pas- 
sage-way was  known,  and  was  used ;  that 
lie  was  at  the  mercy  of  his  captor;  and 
that  Russell  had  made  a  great  blunder  in 
liiding  his  package  in  such  a  place.  But 
wliy  had  his  visitor  failed  to  dlsi^uver  the 
package  ?  Perhaps  because  she  came  in 
the  dark.  That  would  account  for  it. 
She  could  not  have  seen  it ;  slie  passed  by 
it  thus,  both  while  coming  and  going. 


Nevertheless,  whether  this  passage  was 
known  and  used  by  oliiers  or  not,  Harry 
could  not  help  feeling  tiuit  its  discovery 
was  a  great  tldng  fur  iiim.  Perhaps  it 
might  leail  out  of  the  castle.  That  meant 
escape,  liberty,  life!  It  meant  more.  Once 
outside,  he  felt  that  he  could  obtain  help 
from  some  ([uarter.  He  would  tiien  come 
back  with  a  force  which  would  be  suffi- 
cient to  capture  tlie  castle  and  free  his 
friends;  or,  if  he  could  not  gather  a  large 
force,  he  might  find  at  least  a  small  baud 
of  men  witli  wliom  he  could  steal  in 
through  tills  secret  passage,  aiul  etleet  the 
rescue  of  his  friends  in  tiiat  way.  And  by 
"his  friends"'  he  meant  Katie.  She,  at 
least,  could  be  rescued,  and  the  best  way 
would  be  to  res(Uie  her  ut  tiie  outset  by 
carrying  her  otf  witli  him.  Such  were 
Harry's  hopes  and  intentions. 

In  entering  now  upon  this  exploration, 
Harry  felt  the  great  necessity  that  there 
was  of  caution ;  and  yet,  in  sjiite  of  this, 
tlie  toix'h  would  have  to  be  retained,  or 
else  any  farther  jjrogress  would  b(!  impos- 
silile.  To  crawl  along  in  tlie  dark  might 
l)e  safer,  but  it  would  cll'ect  nothing,  and 
he  C(Uild  only  hope  tiiat  ids  torch -light 
would  not  ije  observed.  Dangerous  or 
not,  he  must  retain  it ;  and  besides,  lie 
could  not  be  in  any  greater  peril  than  he 
had  already  been  in.  By  this  bold  move, 
he  had  everything  to  gain  and  nothing  to 
lose.  There  was,  however,  one  other  pre- 
caution which  he  would  have  to  take,  and 
tiiat  was  to  make  as  little  noise  as  possible. 
His  heavy  boots  would  never  do,  and  the 
sound  might  pass  througli  even  such  walls 
as  tiiese.  Removing  these,  therefore,  he 
carried  them  under  one  arm,  and,  holding 
the  torch  in  his  unoccupied  hand,  he  ad- 
vanced along  the  passage. 

The  stones  were  cohl  to  his  feet  as  he 
started  on  his  adventurous  way.  Slowly, 
cautiously,  stealthily,  he  moved  along. 
The  passage  was  about  six  feet  in  height 
and  two  feet  wide,  witli  massive  stone-walls 
on  cither  side.  By  its  direction,  it  seemed 
to  i)ass  through  the  wall  at  one  end  of  the 
great  hall,  past  the  place  where  the  stair- 
way ascended  from  below.  Along  this 
Harry  moved  noiselessly  and  watchfully, 
and  at  length  came  to  a  ])lace  where  the 
passage-way  turned  at  right  angles,  just  as 
it  had  done  at  the  entrance.  Up  this  he 
walked,  and,  after  a  few  paces,  perceived 
an  abyss  before  him.  In  an  instant  he  un- 
derstood ^"liat  this  was.    It  was  another 


64 


A  CASTLE  IN  SPAIN. 


chimney  similnr  to  tlic  one  in  \m  room, 
from  which  the  pnssage-wny  hnd  started, 
and  here  too,  doubtless,  tliere  was  a  room 
like  his  own. 

lie  now  extinguisiied  the  toirli.  wliicli, 
together  with  the  boots,  he  put  down  on' 
the  floor,  and   then,  Ijinj^   Hat   down,  he  j 
thrust  his  iiead  over  the  opening  and  tried  I 
to    see   wiiat   was    below.      There   was   a 
faint  light,  the  liglit  of  moonbeam^,  which  ^ 
streamed  in  here  and  fell  upon  the  floor, ! 
just   as   in   his  own   room.      He   reached ! 
down  his  hand,  and  could  feel  that  here 
too  there  were  stepping-stones.     In  fact,  j 
there  were  two  rooms  connected  by  this  | 
passage-way,  and  in  all   probaljility  they' 
were  exactly  similar.      Hut  who  were  in 
this  room  ?     'I'he  men  had  been  taken  to . 
one  side  of  the  great  hull,  the  women  to  i 
the  other.     Were  the  women  here  ?     AVerc  ; 
they  by  themselves  i    And  was  Katie  here!'  i 
Would  it  be  possible  for  him  to  go  down ' 
so  as  to  try  to  coinmunicati!  with  any  of  ; 
tliem?    It  was  certainly  hazardous.     A  dis- ' 
covcry  would  ruin  all.     It  would  be  better 
to  wait,  at  any  rate  to  watch  here  for  a' 
while,  and  listen.  j 

As  he  watched  he  could  see  somewhat  j 
better,  for  his  eyes  grew  more  accustomed 
to  the  dim  light.  lie  could  make  out  the 
stepping-stones,  and  the  chimney  floor,  and 
the  floor  of  tlw^  room  for  about  one-third  of 
the  distance  from  the  chimney.  As  he  \vj 
there  and  watched  and  listPiied,  there  came 
to  his  cars,  through  the  deep  stillness  of 
night,  tlie  soimd  of  regular  breathing,  as  of 
sleepers,  together  with  an  occasional  sigh, 
as  of  some  one  in  a  troubled  dream.  They 
were  all  asleep,  then  !  Who  ?  The  Carlists, 
or  the  women  attendants?  or  was  it  not 
rather  his  own  friends — and — Katie  ?  At 
this  thought  an  uncontrollable  desire  seized 
him  to  venture  down  and  see  for  IiiniseU'. 
He  might  get  near  enough  to  see  for  him- 
self lie  could  strike  a  match,  take  one 
look,  and  then,  if  mistaken,  retreat.  Dared 
he  venture?     He  dared. 

He  raised  himself,  and  then  was  about 
to  put  one  foot  down  so  as  to  descend,  but 
at  that  very  moment,  as  he  stood  jjoised 
in  that  attitude,  he  heard  a  faint  shuffling 
sound  below.  He  stopped  and  looked 
down  cautiously.  There,  across  the  moon- 
beams, he  could  see  a  figure  moving;  the 
very  same  figure  that  he  had  seen  moving 
across  the  moonbeams  in  his  own  room — 
the  same  slender,  slight,  fragile  figure,  with 
the  same  floating,  vai)orou8  drapery.     But 


now  he  did  not  feel  one  particle  of  wonder 
or  superstitious  awe  He  understood  it  all. 
The  woman  who  had  visited  him  had  flcl 
back  here,  and  was  now  about  to  return. 
What  should  he  do  {  He  must  retreat. 
She  was  evidi'ufly  coming  in  his  direction. 
He  would  go  back  to  his  own  room,  and 
wait  and  watch  and  intercept  lier.  As 
Harry  hesitated  the  woman  stopped  also, 
and  listened.     Then  .she  advaiu'cd  again. 

Upon  this  Harry  retreated,  taking  his 
boots  and  the  extinguished  torch,  and  went 
back  again.  He  succeeded  in  regaining 
his  own  room  without  making  any  noise, 
and  by  that  time  he  had  decided  on  what 
he  ought  to  do.  He  decided  to  stand  in 
the  fireplace,  on  the  opposite  side.  'J'lie 
Woman  would  come  down  the  stepping- 
stones  and  steal  into  the  room:  he  would 
Watch  her  and  find  out  what  she  wanted. 
Then  he  would  act  according  to  the  issui' 
of  events ;  and  at  any  rate  he  could  inter- 
cept her  on  her  return,  and  make  her  give 
an  account  of  herself 

Having  come  to  this  conclusion,  Harry 
stood  there  in  the  chimney,  waiting  mo>l 
])atiently  for  what  seemed  a  very  long  time. 
He  suspected  that  the  woman  miglit  still 
be  hesitating,  but  determined  to  wait  until 
she  should  make  her  ap])earance.  At  length 
he  heard  a  noise,  whi"'.i  seemed  to  come 
from  the  passage  above.  It  was  a'soft,  dull, 
scraping,  sliding  noise  of  a  very  peculiar 
kind,  the  cause  and  the  nature  of  which  he 
could  not  conjecture.  The  sound  came, 
and  then  .stopped,  and  came  again,  and 
again  stopped,  for  three  or  four  times. 
Harry  listened  and  waited.  At  last  the 
sound  ceased  altogether,  and  there  was  the 
same  stillness  as  before. 

Harry  now  waited  for  so  long  a  time  that 
his  patience  was  (piite  exhausted,  and  he 
resolved,  come  what  might,  to  go  up  again 
to  the  end  of  the  passage  and  wait  there. 
He  knew  the  way  now  well  euough.  lie 
left  his  torch  and  boots  behind,  and,  climb- 
ing up,  went  along  the  pa.ssage,  half  expect- 
ing to  encounter  the  woman,  and  ready  to 
seize  her  and  question  her.  But  he  found 
no  one.  All  w.as  still.  He  reached  the 
chimney  of  the  other  room,  and  then,  as  be- 
fore, he  looked  down. 

He  saw  the   moonbeams  lying  on  the 

floor;  he  heard  the  slow,  low, regular breatli- 

■  ing  of  sleepers,  one  of  whom  seemed  still 

to  be  in  that  troubled  dream.     Familiarity 

I  with  these  surroundings  had  now  made  him 

!  bold. 


A  CASTLE  IN  SPAIN. 


Co 


SliouM  he  venture  now,  or  wrtit  longer? 

Wait !  VVIiy  wait  {  When  could  ho  hope 
to  liiivc  a  better  time  tiuin  the  present  i 

Hut  one  of  tiie  women  was  no  doubt 
awiike— timt  one  who  had  already  visited 
him. 

What  of  that?  He  eared  not;  he  could 
nut  wait.  Perhaps  she  was  a  frieiwl  —  it 
seemeil  like  it.  At  any  rate  he  was  re- 
solved  to  risk  it.  To  j,'()  back  was  not  to 
he  thoutrht  of.  All  his  nerves  were  so 
wrouifht  up,  anil  to  such  an  intense  jjifch 
of  excitement,  that  sleep  was  impossible 
and  any  lonj^er  waitinij  intolerable.  He 
determined  to  risk  nil  now. 

And  for  what  ? 

For  the  chance,  not  of  escape,  but  of 
Cduimunieating  with  Katie. 

The  fact  is,  as  any  one  may  see,  Harry 
was  {jfettini;  in  a  very  bad  way  aljout  Katie. 
P^lse  why  should  he  make  such  a  point 
iiliout  seeini,'  her,  and  run  such  a  risk,  and 
make  even  the  chance  of  his  personal  safety 
a  secondary  consideration  ?  And  what  for  i 
What  did  Katie  care  for  him?  AVliat  in- 
deed ? 

These  very  questions  had  occurred  to  the 
mind  of  Harry  himself,  but  they  had  one 
and  all  been  promptly  answered  by  that 
volatile  young  man  in  a  way  that  was  quite 
satisfactory  to  himself.  For  he  said  to  him- 
self that  he  was  a  poor  lone  man;  an  un- 
fertunate  captive  in  a  dungeon;  in  the 
Imnds  of  a  merciless  foe ;  under  sentence 
of  death;  with  only  a  week  to  live;  and 
that  he  wanted  sympathy,  yes,  pined  tor  it 
—craved,  yearned,  hungered  and  thirsted 
for  sweet  sympathy.  /v.nd  it  seemed  to 
him  as  though  no  one  could  give  him  that 
sympathy  for  which  he  pined  so  well  as 
Katie.  And  therefore  he  was  going  down 
to  her  on  this  desperate  errand  for  the  sole 
imrpose  of  seeing  her,  and  perhaps  of  com- 
municating with  her. 

A  thought  occurred  to  him  at  the  elev- 
(iith  hour,  while  he  was  on  the  verge  of  the 
tk'scent,  and  that  was  to  write  something 
to  her  and  drop  it  down.  He  might  pencil 
something  on  a  leaf  of  his  pocket-book. 
lUit,  after  all,  what  would  be  the  good  of 
that?  Would  she  ever  see  it?  Might  it 
not  be  picked  up  by  one  of  the  waiting- 
women  in  the  morning?  Most  likely  it 
would  be,  in  which  case  it  would  be  ear- 
ned to  the  chief,  "  His  Majesty,"  and  all 
would  be  revealed.  lie  then  would  be  con- 
vi'ycd  to  another  part  of  the  castle,  and 
then — good-bye  to  the  hidden  package  and 


to  Katie.  This  thought  decided  him.  He 
continued  his  descent. 

Slowly,  ciuitiously,  and  stealthily  Harry 
began  to  venture  down,  looking  behind  him 
at  every  nu>veui('nt,aud  at  every  movement 
waiting  and  listening.  No  sound  arose, 
however,  e.\ce])t  the  h)W  breathing,  which 
was  as  regul  ir  as  bclnre.  At  length  he 
stood  upon  the  stone  tloor  of  the  tiri'idaee. 

Here  he  stood  and  lookeil  into  the  room. 
By  this  time  his  e\es  were  so  aecustoujed 
to  the  moonlighi  il;:'t  he  could  see  objects 
with  wonderful  distinctness.  He  could  sec 
three  beds,  upon  which  were  reclining  three 
tigures,  all  apparently  buried  in  sleep.  Like 
hiujself,  all  these  had  been  compelled  to  lie 
down  in  their  clothes,  with  only  such  addi- 
tiomil  covering  as  might  be  allbnled  by 
their  own  shawls  and  wra|)s. 

Harry  stole  forwartl,  his  heart  beating 
])ainfully.  Upon  the  rude  co;ieh  nearest 
liim  lay  a  figure  that  seemed  familiar.  The 
moonbeams  shone  full  upon  her.  A  shawl 
with  a  large  stripe  was  drawn  over  her. 
It  was  Katie's  shawl. 

Harry  came  nearer. 

He  could  see  her !  It  was — yes,  it  was 
Katie! 

There  was  no  mistake  about  it.  It  was 
Katie,  and  she  was  sound  asleep.  He  look- 
ed at  her  as  she  slept — her  head  thrown 
back,  and  one  arm  upraised,  so  that  the  lit- 
tle hand  seemed  suspended  in  the  air.  For 
a  few  moments  he  stood,  then  he  sank  upon 
his  knees,  and  gazed  in  silent  rapture  on 
that  sweet  and  beautiful  face.  Her  breath- 
ing was  soft  and  low — scarce  audible.  He 
bent  his  head  down  to  listen.  Katie  stirred. 
She  drew  a  long  breath. 

"  Il-s-s-s-s-sh  !"  whispered  Harry. 

At  this  Katie  stopped  breathing  for  a 
moment,  and  then  she  whispered,  very  soft- 

"  Who  arc  you  ?" 

"Harry,"  said  the  other.  "Don't  speak 
a  word." 

Saying  this,  he  reached  out  his  hand  and 
took  hers.  This  was  intended  merely  to 
soothe  her  and  to  reassure  her,  for  fear  that 
she  might  be  startled. 

•'  I  knew  you  would  come  to  me,"  said 
Katie,  in  a  rapid  and  joyous  whisper;  "  and 
here  you  are — you  dear,  good  boy  !" 

At  this  Harry's  heart  beat  with  a  rapture 
that  Avas  positive  pain. 

"  I  had  to  come.  I  could  not  keep  away," 
he  whispered. 

"  I  was  just  dreaming  that  you  were  with 


66 


A  CASTLE  IN  SPAIN. 


inc."  wliisporrd  Katie,  "nn<l  it  iiU  ficcms  «o 
awt'ully  tiuturul.  But  wuu't  tho  others  sec 
you?" 

"  lI-s-H-s-s-sh  I''  saitl  Hurry.  "  They're  nil 
sound  awltci)." 

Ktttic  now  raised  lierselfup  onherellmw, 
while  Harry  rcniuined  kneeling  on  the  lloor. 
"I  think  it's  so  lovely,"  she  said.  "It's 
BO  awfully  nice,  and  jolly,  and  all  that— in 
this  rnyHtcrious  old  castle;  and  hero, lo  ami 
behold  !  yoti  come  popping  in  upon  one  just 
like  a  romance." 

"  H-s-s-s-s-sii !  you  nuistn't  speak." 
"But  it's  80  awfully  nice,  you  know,  I 
must  si)euk,  and,  besides,  we're  only  whis- 
pering." 

"  Well,  whisper  lower,  and  closer." 
Katie  held  her  head  closer  to  Harry,  and 
thus  these  two,  for  purely  precautionary 
purposes,  carried  on  tho  rest  of  the  conver- 
sation in  that  position.  And  their  heads 
were  so  close  that  they  touched  ;  and  their 
whispers  were  very  soft  and  low.  But  all 
this  was  necessary ;  for  if  they  had  not 
taken  these  i)recautions,  they  might  have 
wakened  up  old  Mrs.  Kussell,  and  then,  as 
a  matter  of  course,  there  would  have  been 
the  miscliief  to  pay. 

"There's  too  nuich  moonlight  here,"  said 
Harry.  ''  Come  over  inside  the  old  fire- 
place, and  we'll  be  in  the  dark." 

"  Oh,  that  will  be  so  nice !"  said  Katie. 
And  she  at  once  got  up  and  stole  away  to 
the  deep,  dark  iirei)lace,  where  both  of  them 
were  wrapped  in  impenetrable  gloom.  It 
was  well  tliat  they  did  so,  for  at  that  mo- 
ment something  waked  Mrs.  Russell,  who 
called  out, 
"Katie!" 

"Well,  auntie,"  said    Katie,  from    the 
depths  of  tho  fireplace. 
"  I  thought  I  heard  a  noise." 
"  Oh  no,  auntie ;  you've  been  dreaming," 
said  Katie,  in  a  tone  of  sweet  sympathy. 
"  Go  to  sleep  again,  poor  dear." 

And  auntie  sank  back  into  the  land  of 
dreams.  After  a  little  judicious  waiting 
they  were  able  to  resume  their  interrupt- 
ed conversation. 

"  How,  in  the  name  of  wonder,"  said 
Katie, "  did  you  ever,  ever  manage  to  get 
here  ?" 

Harry  bent  down,  and  in  a  low,  very  low, 
fiiint  wliisper  told  her  all  about  it,  dwelling 
upon  every  little  detail,  and  not  forgetting 
to  mention  how  he  had  longed  to  see  her, 
and  had  risked  everything  for  it.  And  Ka- 
tie kept  interrupting  him  incessantly,  with 


soft  cooing  whispers  of  sympathy,  wliicli 
were  exceeding  sweet  and  precious. 

And  Katie  proceeded  to  tell  that  she  had 
been  dreaming  —  and  wasn't  it  funny  ?- 
about  him  ;  that  she  thought  he  had  got 
into  one  of  the  windows,  and  was  about  to 
carry  her  olf. 

"And  were  you  glad  to  sec  mo?"  naked 
Harry. 

"Awfully!"  said  Katie;  "just  the  same 
in  my  drean\  as  1  am  now,  only  I  can't  s(;o 
you  one  bit — it's  so  awfully  dark." 

"Are  you  afraiil  J"  asked  Harry,  in  a 
trembling  voice. 

"  Afraid  ?  Oh  no.  It's  awfully  nice,  and 
all  that,  you  know.'' 

"  But  shouldn't  you  like  to  get  away  out 
of  this?" 

"  (Jet  away  ?" 

"  Yes,  if  1  could  get  ofT,  and  get  you  oil" 
too  ?" 

"But  how  can  wo  go?" 

"  Well,  I  don't  know  just  yet.  I  only 
know  till  way  from  my  room  here,  and 
back  again  ;  but  1  may  lind  out  something." 

"  But  that  won't  do  any  good.  Don't 
you  really  know  any  way  out  i" 

"  Not  yet,  but  I  iiope  to  lind  one ;  I  dare 
say  I  shall  beft)re  long." 

"  Oh,  how  delicious !  how  perfectly  de- 
licious that  would  be  !  I  do  wish  that  you 
only  could.  It  would  be  quite  too  awfully 
nice,  you  know." 

"  I'll  let  you  know.     I  promise  you." 

"  But  then,"  said  Katie,  "  you'll  be  goini,' 
olV  yourself  and  leaving  poor  me  behind."' 

"Leave  your  said  Harry,  indignantly; 
"  never  1" 

"Wouldn't  you  really?"  asked  Katie, in 
a  tone  of  delight. 

"  Never,"  said  Harry.  "  I  wouldn't  stir  a 
ste])  without  you.  I'd  rather  be  a  prisoner 
with  you  than  a  free  man  without  you." 

Katie  dre.v  a  long  breath, 

"Well,"  said  she,  "I  think  you  mist  be 
a  trno  friend." 

"I'd  rather  be  here  Avith  you,"  persisted 
Harry, "  than  anywhere  in  the  world  with- 
out you." 

"If  only  your  passage-way  ran  outside 
the  building,  wouldn't  it  be  nice?''  said 
Katie.  "  Wliy,  we  might  pop  out  now,  and 
away  we  would  go,  and  no  one  a  bit  tlic 
wiser." 

"And  where  would  you  like  mc  to  take 
you?" 

"  Where  ?    Oh,  anywliere !" 

"  But  where  in  particular  ?" 


A  CASTLE  IN  SIAIN. 


e? 


"Oh,  I  Jon't  care.  I  like  Madrirl  very 
well,  or  London ;  but  it's  too  rainy  there  and 

ibggy-" 
"Should  j-ou  like  Barcelona?"  inquired 

ITirry,  tondorly. 

"  I  dare  say,  thoii^li  I've  never  I)cen  there. 
But  I  don't  half  know  what  I'm  talking 
about,  and  I  think  I've  been  uiixiajjf  up  my 
dreams  with  real  liib;  and  you  come  so 
into  ttie  middle  oi' a  dream  tliat  it  seems 
like  a  continuation  of  it;  and  I'm  not  sure 
but  tliat  tiiis  in  a  dream.  I'm  pinching  my- 
self too,  all  the  tinu",  and  it  hurts,  so  that  I 
tliink  I  must  be  awake.  But,  all  tiie  same, 
vou  realJv  mean  wiuit  vou  sav  r 

"  'Mean  it  ?  Why,  I  can't  say  one  thou- 
s.^Jidth  part  of  what  I  really  mean.  Don't 
you  believe  it,  when  you  see  me  here  ?"' 

*•  But  I  don't  see  you  at  all,"  said  Katie. 

Harry  looked  at  her  for  a  niomcnt,  and 
then  said,  abruptly, 

"Kceii  your  shawl  around  you,  poor  lit- 
tle girl;  I'm  afraid  you'll  get  cold;"  and 
with  tender  solicitude  he  proceeded  to  draw 
her  shawl  lighter  aroiuul  her  slender  fig- 
lue.  This  was  a  work  which  re(piir.Ml  no 
little  time  and  skill.  Not  a  word  was  now 
sjidken  for  some  time.  This  was  ol' course 
wiser  on  their  part  than  whispering,  for 
whispers  arc  sometimes  dangerous,  and 
may  lead  to  discovery.  But  Harry  fbcemed 
troubled  id)out  Katie's  health,  and  was  nev- 
er satislied  about  that  shawl. 

'■  Vou  are  so  very  kind!"'  said  Katie,  at 
last. 

'•  It's  because  I'm  so  fon^.  ,)i — the  shawl," 
s:ii(l  Harry.  "  I  love  U>  arrange  it  for  you. 
1  shoidd  like  to  take  it  back  with  me," 

"  Should  you  really  V 

"Above  all  things— except  one." 

'•What,'" 

"Why,  of  course,  I  should  rather  take 
l:i(  k  with  me  what's  insl.le  the  shawl.'' 

"  Well,  I'm  sure  '  what's  inside  the  shawl ' 
would  like  very  nuieh  to  get  away  out  of 
this  prison;  and  so,  sir,  when  you  tind  a 
way,  you  must  let  her  know.  But  won't 
Mr.  Russell  wake  and  miss  you  ?" 

"iMr.  Russell?  Why,  he  isn't  with  me 
any  hmger." 

••Isn't  he  ^" 

'•  No.  I'm  all  alone.  They  took  him 
away,  and  I  sujjpose  he's  alone  too." 

'•Oh  dear!  I  hope  I  sha'n't  be  left 
alone." 

"  I  hope,  if  you  are,  vou  may  be  left 
here." 

"  Why  ?''  asked  Katie,  who  knew  per- 


fectly well,  but  liked  to  hear  it  stated  ia 
plain  M'ords. 

''Why — because  I  could  come  to  see  you 
all  the  time  then,  instead  of  waiting  till 
they're  all  asleep." 


CHAPTER  XIX. 


IN 


WHICH    Udl.OKKS     INnn.OKS     IN    SOME    KEMIMS- 
CKN(i;S    OF   THK    I'AST. 


TuK  sleeper  to  whose  sighs  Harry  had 
listened  was  Mrs.  Russell,  who  awaked  on 
the  following  inoining  burdened  with  the 
memories  of  unpleasant  dreams.  Dolores 
was  bright  and  cheerful.  1'  itie  was  as 
gay  and  as  sunny  as  ever — perhajjs  a  trifle 
more  so. 

''I  don't  understantl  how  it  i>,"  said  Mrs. 
Russell, "  that  you  two  can  kee))  up  your 
spirits  so  in  this  ogre's  castle.  I'm  certain 
that  something  dreadful  's  going  lo  hap- 
pen.' 

'•  Oh,  auntie,  you  shouldn't  be  always 
looking  on  the  dark  side  of  things." 

"I  should  like  to  kii.  a  what  other  side 
there  is  to  look  o  .  except  the  dark  t)nc. 
For  my  part.  I  think  it  best  always  to  pre- 
pare l.)r  the  worst;  for  tluM  when  it  comes 
one  isn't  so  utterly  overwlu  Imed." 

"  Yes."  said  Katie,  "  but  suppose  it 
doesn't  come  i  Why,  then,  don't  you  see, 
auntie,  you  will  have  had  all  your  worry 
for  nothing  ^' 

"Oh,  it's  all  very  well  for  one  like  you. 
You  are  like  a  kitten,  and  turn  everything 
to  mirth  and  play." 

'•  Well,  here  is  our  detir,  darling  Dolores," 
said  Katie,  who  by  this  time  had  become 
great  friends  with  the  dark-eyed  S[)ani3h 
beauty.  "Look  sit  her!  She  doesn't 
mope."' 

"  Oh  no,  I  doesn't  what  you  call — mopes," 
said  Dolores,  in  her  pretty  broken  English. 
••  I  see  no  causa  to  mopes." 

"  But  you're  a  jtrisoner  as  much  as  I  nm." 

"Oh  si — but  tliees  is  a  land  that  1  have 
a  (piainfance  with:  I  know  thees  laud — 
thees  part." 

"  Have  you  ever  been  here  befon; ';" 

"  Si — yes.    I  lif  here  once  when  a  child."  . 

"  Oh,  you  lived  here,"  said  Katie.  "  Well, 
now  do  you  know,  I  call  that  awfully 
funny." 

"Myp.adre — he  lif  here  in  thees  eastello. 
I  lif  here  one  tin>e — one  anno — one  year,  in 
thees  eastello." 


68 


A  CASTLE  IN  SPAIN. 


"Wlmt!  here  in  this  castle?" 

"Yes,  lierc.  Tlic  j)ii(lre — ho  hud  praiul 
flocks  of  the  merino  siiee])s — to  cultiviite — 
to  Iced  them  in  tiie  pasturas — the  slieep — 
one  —  ten  —  twenty  thousand — the  siieep. 
And  lie  liad  tliousand  men  sliepiierds — 
and  he  lit"  here  in  tlices  castello  to  see 
over  tlie  flocks.  But  he  was  away  among 
tlie  flocks  aUa  tlie  times.  And  me,  and 
tlie  niiidre,  and  tlie  th)mesticos,  we  all  tlid 
lit"  here,  and  it  seems  to  me  like  homes." 

'*  But  tliat  must-  have  heen  lonji;  ;i;^o  ?"' 

"Oh,  lonj^,  lonj,f  a;L,'o.  I  was  vara  leetl 
— a  chikl;  and  it  was  long  ago.  Then  the 
padre  went  to  Cuba." 

"  C"ul)a !     What  I  have  you  been  there  ?" 

"  Oh,  many,  many  years." 

"Across  the  Atlantic  —  far  away  in 
Cul)ar' 

"  Far,  far  away,"  said  Dolores,  her  sweet 
voice  rising  to  a  plaintive  note  ;  •'  far  away 
— in  Cuba — oh,  many,  numy  years!  And 
there  the  pu  Ire  had  a  plantation,  and  was 
rich;  but  the  Msurrection  it  did  break  out, 
and  he  was  killed." 

Dolores  stojjped  and  wiped  her  eyes. 
Katie  looked  at  her,  and  her  own  eyes 
overflowed  with  tears  of  tender  sympathy. 

"  Oh,  how  sad  I"  she  .said.  ''  I  had  no 
idea." 

Dolores  drew  a  long  breath. 

"Yes;  he  died,  the  good,  tender  padre; 
and  madre  and  me  be  left  all — all — all- 
alone— ahme — in  the  crude  world.  And 
the  rebel  came,  and  the  soldiers,  and  oh. 
how  they  did  flght !  And  the  slaves,  they 
did  all  run  away  —  all — all  —  all — away; 
and  the  trees  and  fruits  all  destroy;  and 
the  houses  all  liurn  up  in  „ne  gran'  cr)n- 
flagration;  and  it  was  out;  kin(i,  goo<l 
Anu'rican  that  did  help  us  to  fly;  or  we 
never — never  would  l)e  aide  to  lif  So  wv, 
dill  come  back  to  our  patria  poor,  and  M'c 
had  to  lif  poor  in  Valencia.  I  told  you  I 
was  lifmg  in  Valencia  when  I  left  that 
place  to  come  on  thees  travel." 

"  I  suppose,"  said  Katie,  "since  you  lived 
in  this  casll(!  once,  you  must  know  all 
about  it." 

"Oh  yes.  all- all  about  it." 

"And  you  must  have  been  all  over  it  in 
every  direction." 

"Oh  yes,  all  over  it— all — all  over  it — 
thousand  —  thousand  times,  and  in  every 
parts  and  spots." 

"It's  such  a  strange  old  castle,"'  contin- 
ued Katie,  wiio  was  very  anxious  to  And 
out  how  far  the   knowledge  of  Dolores 


went,  and  whether  she  knew  anything 
about  the  secret  passage;  "it's  such  a 
strange  old  castle ;  it's  like  those  that  one 
reads  of  in  the  old  romances." 

"Yes,  oil,  vara,  vara,"  said  Dolores; 
"like  the  feudal  Oothic  castellos  of  the 
old — old  charming  romances;  like  the  cas- 
tello of  the  C'id  ;  and  you  go  up  the  towers 
and  into  the  turrets,  and  you  walk  over 
the  top,  past  the  battlementa,  and  you  spy, 
spy,  spy  deep  down  into  the  courts; 
and  you  dream,  and  dream,  and  dream. 
And  when  I  was  a  vara  leetl  child,  I  did 
u.se  to  do  nothing  else  but  wander  about, 
and  dream,  and  dream,  and  get  lost,  and 
could  not  And  my  way  back.  Oh,  I  could 
tell  you  of  a  thousand  things.  I  could 
talk  all  the  day  of  that  bright,  bright 
time  when  my  padre  was  like  a  noble;  »• 
rich  he  was,  and  living  in  his  grand  cas- 
tello." 

"And  did  you  really  wander  about  so? 
and  did  you  really  get  lost  so  f  asked 
Katie,  who  was  still  following  up  her  idea, 
being  intent  upon  learning  how  much  Do- 
lores knew  about  the  inner  secrets  of  the 
castle — "such  as  where,  now,"  she  added, 
eagerly.  "  where  would  you  get  lost  f 

"Oh,  everywhere,"  said  Dolores,  "and 
all  over.  For  there  are  halls  tliat  open 
into  gallerias;  and  gallerias  that  open  into 
rooms;  ami  roonis  into  closets,  and  these 
into  other  halls;  and  grand  apartments  of 
states;  and  states  beds -chambers;  and 
there  are  the;  upper  rooms  for  guests  and 
domesticos;  anil  down  IjcIow  them  are 
rooms  for  the  outer  servitores;  and  far,  far 
down,  far  down  i.ndergromul.  there  are 
dungeons — fearful,  fearful  places  with  dark- 
ness and  r-r-rats  I — and  that  is  all  that  you 
do  lind  when  you  come  to  move  about  in 
liiis  wonderful,  this  maravelloso  castello." 

"And  have  you  been  ."11  through  the 
vaults  ?"  asked  Katie,  trying  to  lead  Dolores 
on  farther. 

"Yes,"  .said  Dolores,  "all — all — through 
all  the  vaults,  every  single  one;  and  tiiere 
was  an  ancient  servitor  who  showed  me  all 
the  mysteria— an  ancient,  ancient,  venerable 
man  lie  was  —  and  he  showed  me  all  the 
secrets,  till  all  the  castello  was  as  known 
to  me  as  thees  room;  and  so  I  did  bccoi.ie 
lost  no  more,  and  we  did  use  to  wander 
together  through  ilark  and  hmely  ways, 
and  up  to  the  turrets,  ami  down  to  the 
vaults,  till  all  this  beautiful,  beautiful  old  cas- 
tello was  known  to  me  like  my  own  room." 

While  Dolores  talked  in  this  strain  she 


A  CASTLE  IN  SPAIN. 


C9 


grew  more  and  more  entluisiustic,  and  made 
use  of  a  iniilliplicity  of  graceful  i,'estures  to 
liilp  out  her  meaning.  And  her  eyes  gh)w- 
eil  bright  and  her  exi)re.ssive  features  siiow- 
ed  wonderful  feeling,  wiiilu  her  motions 
and  lier  looks  were  full  of  ehxjuenee.  It 
was  a  bright  and  joyous  past  that  opened 
to  her  memory,  and  the  thought  of  it  could 
not  be  entertained  without  emotion.  ]}y 
that  emotion  she  was  now  all  carried  away ; 
and  as  Katie  watelied  iier  glowing  face  and 
her  dark  gleaming  eyes  and  all  her  elo- 
quent gestures,  she  thought  tJiat  she  had 
iiiiver  se..n  any  one  half  so  beautiful.  I3ut 
Katie  was  dying  with  curiosity  to  lind  ou' 
liow  far  the  knowledge  of  Dolores  extend- 
ed, and  so  at  last,  taking  her  cue  from  Do- 
lores's own  words,  she  said : 

"  Dark  and  lonely  ways !  What  dark  ami 
lonely  ways,  dear  Dolores  {  That  sounds 
as  though  there  are  secret  passages  througli 
tills  old  castle.  Oh,  I  do  so  love  a  place 
with  vaults  and  secret  jiassages!  And  are 
there  any  here,  dear  i  and  have  you  been  in 
tliem  ever '."' 

Like  liglitning  the  glance  of  Dolores 
swejit  over  Katie's  face;  it  was  a  sudden, 
swift  glance,  and  one  full  of  subtle  (lues- 
iioning  and  caution.  Katie  saw  it  all,  antl 
perceived  too,  at  once,  that  whatever  Do- 
lores miglit  know,  she  would  not  tell  it  in 
that  fashion  in  answer  to  a  point-blank 
question.  As  for  Dolores,  her  swift  glance 
jKissed,  anil  slu;  went  ou  with  hardly  any 
change  in  her  tone: 

"Oh  yes;  the  dark  and  lonely  w^ays,  far, 
l;ir  below — in  the  vaults  aiul  through  the 
wide,  wide  walls.  For  they  run  everywhere, 
so  that  in  the  ancient  times  of  wars  the 
warriors  could  ])ass  from  tower  to  tower." 

Katie  saw  tliat  Dolori'S  was  on  lu-r  guard 
and  was  evading  her  (piestion,  from  which 
>h('  concluded  that  the  little  Spanish  maid 
knew  all  about  the  secret  i)assage-way  to 
Harry's  room.  The  visitor  to  him  n\ust 
liavc  been  Dolores,  and  no  other.  IJut 
why?  This  she  could  not  answer.  She 
ilclermiued,  however,  uj^ou  two  things  — 
lirst,  to  keep  her  own  eyes  open  ami  watch; 
and  secondly,  to  tell  Harry  all  about  it  the 
next  time  she  saw  him. 


CHAPTER  XX. 

IN  wiiicn  "  ins  MAJKSTV  "  ExiiiniTS  Tin:  emotions 

OK    A    UOVAI,    HOSOSI,  AM)    MIlS.    HISSKLL    IS    DAZ- 
ZLKD  IIV    A    UUILLIANT   PROSl'ECT. 

On  the  following  morning  there  was 
great  excitement  in  Jlrs.  Russell's  room. 
This  was  caused  by  one  of  the  female  at- 
tendants, who  had  come  with  the  announce- 
ment that  they  were  to  be  honored  in  a 
short  time  by  a  visit  from  '"His  Majesty  the 
King.'' 

"The  King  I"  exclaimed  Mrs.  Ru.ssell,  as 
soon  as  Dolores  had  translated  this.  "  What 
King  {     Who  is  he  r 

"The  Kingl"  said  Dolores.  "He  can 
only  be  one — one  single  person— Don  Car- 
los—King Charles." 

"  King  I"  cried  .Mrs.  Russell,  "  and  coming 
here!  Oh  dear!  what  shall  I  do?  And 
my  dresses  !  and  uiy  jewels  !  and  my  toilet 
articles  !  Oh,  what  ever— ever — ever  w  ill 
become  of  poor  me  I" 

"  Oh.  auntie,  it  is  useless  to  think  of  that," 
said  Katie.  "You  are  a  prisoner,  and  no 
one  knows  that  so  well  as  die  '  King,'  as  he 
calls  himself.'' 

Mrs.  Russell,  however,  felt  dilferent,  and 
continued  her  lamentations  until  "  His 
Majesty''  himself  ai)pcared.  Great  was 
their  surprise  at  (iiuling  this  exalted  )>er- 
sonage  to  be  no  other  than  their  Carlist 
chief;  but  they  felt  still  greater  surprise 
when  "  His  Majesty "'  began  to  address  them 
in  English,  with  an  accent  which,  though 
foreign,  was  still  familiar. 

"  We  have  called,  ladies,"  .said  he,  with  a 
magnilieen  ,  bow,  "  to  wish  yez  all  a  good- 
marrunin',  aii'  to  a.v  aflhcr  yer  liealths." 

The  ladies  murmured  some  reply  which 
was  not  very  iiilelligilile,  in  wliieh,  however, 
the  words  "Your  Majesty"  occurred  quite 
frequently. 

"  His  Majesty"  now  seated  himself  upon 
(he  only  seat  in  the  room,  namely,  an  oaken 
bench,  and  then,  with  a  wave  of  his  royal 
hand, said  : 

"  He  sated,  ladies,  be  sated.  Let's  waive 
all  i'arrums  an'  eirimonies,  an'  liowld  con- 
versation like  frinds.  Be  sated,  we  beg ;  it's 
our  r'y'l  will,  so  it  is." 

The  ladies  looked  at  one  another  in 
meek  embarrassment.  There  was  nothing 
for  Ihein  to  sit  on  excejit  the  rough  couch- 
es where  they  had  slept ;  and  linally,  as 
there  was  nothing  else  to  be  done,  they  sat 
there,  Mrs.  Russell  being  nearest  to  "  Ilis 
Majesty,''  while  Katie  and  Dolores  sat  far- 


70 


A  CASTLE  IN  SPAIN. 


tlicr  nwny,  side  by  siilc,  holding  one  anotli- 
er's  liiiiids,  and  looking  very  nieelv  and  de- 
mure indeed. 

"On  sieh  occasions  as  these,"  said  "His 
Majesty,"  "wc  love  to  dlnop  all  coort  cir- 
iinonial,  an'  lave  behind  all  our  body- 
gyards,  an'  nol)les,  an'  barr'ns,  an'  cham- 
berlains, an'  thini  fellers,  an'  come  in  to 
have  a  cliat  like  a  private  irintlcnian." 

"Oh,'  Your  Majesty  !' "'  said  Mrs.  Russell, 
in  a  lanj^'uisliing  tone,  "how  very, very  nice 
it  must  be !"' 

"  It  is  that,  bedad ;  that's  thrue  for  you," 
said  "His  JIajesty."  "An'  sure  it's  meself 
that's  the  proud  man  this  day  at  tindin' 
that  yez  cnn  put  a  thrue  interpretation  on 
our  r'y'l  .Majesty.'' 

"Ah,  sire,"  sighed  Mrs.  Russell,  whose 
eyes  fell  in  shy  emliarrassment  before  the 
dazzling  gaze  of"  His  Majesty." 

"Ax,"  resumed  "His  Majesty,"  "that 
seemed  like  thrayson  to  our  r'y'l  })erson 
have  iMilbrtunately  eompilled  us  to  detain 
yez;  but  we  hope  it  '11  be  all  right,  an'  that 
ye'll  be  all  well  thraited.  We  thrust  we'll 
be  able  to  come  to  terrums  av  a  satisfactory 
character." 

A  murmur  followed  from  Mrs.  Russell. 

"Affairs  av  state,"  continued  "His  Maj- 
esty," "doesn't  allow  us  to  give  full  an' 
free  ])lay  to  that  jaynial  timi)iramint  that's 
our  ^liafe  an'  layiling  fayture.  It's  war 
toime  now,  so  it  is,  an'  our  r'y'l  moind's 
got  to  be  liarsh,  oystayre,  an'  onbinding. 
War  wid  our  raybellious  snbjix  compils  us 
to  rayjuiee  thim  to  obejience  by  farree  av 
arrums." 

"An'  now,  madame  an'  ladies,"  con- 
tinued "His  .Majesty,"'  afler  a  brief  pause, 
"I  hope  yez  won't  feel  alarrumed  at  what 
I'm  going  to  say  nixt.  Ye  see,  our  Prime 
Ministher  has  conveyed  to  our  r'y'l  ear 
charges  against  your  worthy  husl)and  av  a 
traysonal'ie  nature." 

"My  liusoand  ".''  exclaimed  Mrs.  Russell. 
"What!  my  .John?     Oh!" 

"  Yis,"  said  "His  ^^lajesty."  "  I'm  towld 
that  he's  been  passing  himself  off  as  Lord 
John  Russell,  the  Prime  Miuistlier  av  Eng- 
land, an'  as  the  spieial  ambassador  exthra- 
ardinary  from  our  r'y'l  cousin,  the  Quanc 
av  Kngland,  to  invistigate  the  state  av  af- 
fairs in  fr'jjain,  wid  an'  oi  to  raycognition 
av  our  r'y'l  claims.  As  such  we've  lionor- 
ed  him  wid  an'  aujenee,  an'  rommunirated 
to  him  sivin.l  state  saycrits  av  a  liighly 
important  nature.  At  that  toime  he  wint 
an'  he  tuk  onjew  advantage  av  our  conll- 


dince  to  desayvc  our  r'y'l  moind.  Upon 
the  discovery  av  this  otlinee  I  felt  the 
kaynist  sorrow,  not  for  him,  ladies,  but  for 
you;  an'  it's  for  your  sakesthat  I  now  come 
here,  to  assure  you  av  my  tinder  sympathy, 
an'  also  to  ax  about  the  fax.  Is  he  Lord 
John  Russell  ?" 

'Shs.  Russell  had  at  first  felt  ready  to 
faint  at  this  woful  disclosure,  but  she  fell 
the  eye  of  majesty  resting  on  her,  and  she 
saw  something  there  that  reassmcd  her. 
She  afterward  told  Katie,  in  confidence, 
that  she  could  understand  exactly  ho-,v 
Queen  Esther  had  felt  v.hcn  Ahasuerus  held 
out  his  sceptre. 

"Ah,  sire  I"' she  rejjlied.  "  Oh,Your  ISIost 
Gracious  Majesty  !  He  isn't  quite  a  lord, 
sire,  it's  true,  but  he's  a  gentleman." 

"Sure  to  .irlory  that's  thrue,"  said  "His 
Majesty."  "  Don't  1  know  it  ? — meself  does. 
He's  a  gintleman,  so  he  is,  ivery  inch  av 
him;  an'  yit  may  I  ax,  miidame,  what  made 
him  ])raytind  to  be  a  British  nobleman  ?" 

"Oh,  Your  Royal  Majesty!"'  said  Mrs. 
Russell,  in  deep  distress. 

"Spake  on,  fair  an"  beaucheous  one," 
said  "His  Majesty,"  with  great  gallantry. 
"  Spake  on.  Our  r'y'l  bosom's  full,  so  it 
is,  av  tindirist  sintiiuiuts.  Power  forth  yer 
story  into  our  r'y'l  ear.  Come — or — whisht ! 
C'ome  over  here  an'  sit  by  our  r'y'l  side.'' 

Saying  this,  "  His  Mnjesty  "  moved  over 
to  one  end  of  the  bench  and  sat  there. 
Unfortunately,  as  he  placed  himself  on  tin 
extreme  end,  the  bench  tilted  up  and  the 
royal  person  went  down.  Katie,  who  was 
always  very  volatile,  tittered  ati<libly  and 
Dolores  did  the  same.  Rut  "  His  I\Iajesty'' 
took  no  otl'eiK^c.  The  fact  is  he  laughed 
himself,  and  bore  it  all  magnanimotisly,  in 
fact  royally.  He  picked  himself  up  as  nim- 
bly as  a  comuKm  [lerson  could  have  done. 

"Be  the  powers!"  said  he,  "  whin  the 
King  loses  his  gravity,  it's  toime  for  every- 
body else  to  lose  his.  Rut  come  along,  jool, 
come  an'  sit  by  our  r'y'l  side,  an'  tell  us 
the  story." 

jrrs.  Russell  had  turned  quite  pale  at  thn 
royal  fall,  and  paler  yet  at  the  sound  of 
Katie's  laugh,  but  these  Avords  reassureil 
her.  They  seemed  to  show  that  she,  un- 
worthy and  huinltle,  was  singled  out  in 
a  special  manner  to  be  the  mark  of  royal 
favor.  And  why?  Was  it  on  her  own  ai- 
count,  or  for  some  other  reason  ?  She  chose 
to  consitlcrthat  it  was  on  her  own  account. 
At  the  renewed  reqne.it  of  "  His  Majesty, " 
which  was  so  kind,  so  tender,  and  at  tlic 


'THK    IlESCII    TILTED    I  1«,  AND    TKE   KOYAI.    I-CUfSON    WKM    DOWN. 


A  CASTLE  IN  SPAIN. 


71 


s.iiiip  time  so  flattering,  &lie  could  no  lonpcr 
resist,  Imt  witii  Ihittcrinj;  liciirt,  sliy  tiiuidi- 
tv,iiiul  ;,'irlisli('ml),'irriissm{'iit,slit'\v('iit  over 
to  "His  MiijcHty  "  ami  seated  herself  on  tiie 
bcncli  l)y  iiis  side. 

Tiie  manner  of  Mrs.  Russell,  Avliii-Ji  liad 
all  tlic  airs  and  prices  of  a  village  eoijuette, 
toiietlicr  with  tlio  liashfulness  of  a  scliool 
miss,  speined  to  Katie  and  Dolores,  hut  es- : 
jjceially  Katie,  a  very  rieh  and  womlrous  I 
thiiiir.  She  always  knew  that  ]Mrs.  Uiissell 
was  a  gushm-i  **entimental  I'rcature,  Imt 
had  never  l)cforc  seen  her  so  deeply  atl'eet- 
c'd.  But  on  this  occasion  the  tjood  lady 
felt  as  thoULch  she  was  veceivint;'  the  liom- 
ai;e  of  the  Kinir,  and  mifjlit  he  e.\cnseil  if 
<]w  had  all  the  sensations  of  a  court  heauty. 

:\lrs.  Russell  now,  at  "  His  Majesty's"  re-  i 
iiewed  re(iiiest,  heiian  to  e.\i)lain  the  pf>si- 
tinu  of  her  husband,     llu  was  a  taih)r,  it  is 
true,  hut  not  by  any  means  a  common  tail- ' 
I  r.     In  fact,  he  associated  exclusively  with 
the  aristocracy.     He  was  very  eminent  in 
his  profession.     lie  had  an  army  of  cutters  ! 
iml  stitchers  under  him.      He   was  not  a  ' 
idlnr.  but   a   Merchant   Tailor,  and,  miu'c- 
Dvei',  he  was  a  member  of  the  Merchant 
Tailors'  Association,  and   a   man   of  enor- 
iiimis  wealth. 

"Sure  to  fjlory,"  ejaculated  "  His  Majes- 
ty," as  Mrs.  Rnssell  paused  for  breath,  "  I 
knowed  it  was  just  that.     It  makes  all  the 
'liller  in  the  worruld  wdicther  a  man's  only  ' 
a  tailor  wul  a  small  *  t'  or  a  Merchant  Tail- 1 
nr  will  capital  letters."  ; 

"  We  keep  our  own  carriaiire,"  continued  ' 
Mrs.  Rnssell,  bridling  and  tossinj>-  her  head, 
•and  wc  have  our  own  coat  of  arms  and 
crest— the  '     -sell  arms,  you  know,  the  same 
us  the  Duke  of  Redford." 

"  'Dade  !"  said  "  His  Majesty,"  "  so  ye  have  ' 
tlio  Rnssell  arrums.  Tm  actpiainted  wid  ' 
His  (irace  the  Juke  av  Redford.  I  seen  him 
ia  Paris.  He's  a  conniction  av  me  own  in 
a  distant  way,  an'  so  you  too  nuist  be  a 
iiiniiiction  in  a  distant  way,  being  a  mim- 
liT  av  the  TloHse  av  Russell." 

"Oh,  sire!  Oh  yes— may  it  plc.asc  Your 
•iriuious ]\Iajesty — yes, I  ilare  say  I  am.  Oil 
yes."  Mrs.  Russell  was  quite  ovcrcomo  at 
;Iie  royal  condescension. 

"Sure,"  continued  "  Ilis  Majesty,"  "we 
1  y'l  jicrsonages  always  acknowledge  our 
'  laisins.  You're  a  cousin  av  mine,  a  distant 
"lie,  it's  thrue,  but  degrays  don't  count  wid 
'is.    Wanst  a  cousin,  always  a  cousin." 

'^  Ah,  sire!" 

"I  nivcr  kuowed  that  yc  were  a  cousin 


befoor,"  said  '•  Ilis  Majesty,''  "  or  else  I'd 
saluted  ye  in  our  r'y'l  fa-'liion,  just  as  our 
cousin  t^uane  Victoria  did  whin  she  ac- 
knowledg<d  the  Imperor  Napoleon.  It's 
our  way  to  acknowledge  relation-hip  wid 
the  r'y'l  kiss.  Wi;  call  it  the  Kiss  av  State. 
Allow  me,  cousin." 

And  bef(ire  the  astounded  Mrs.  Russell 
understood  liis  intention,  '"His  IMajesty " 
put  his  arm  round  her  waist,  and  gave  her 
a  sounding  smack,  which  seemed  to  Katie 
liki"  the  ri'[)orl  of  a  pistol. 

This  was  altogether  too  nuich  for  poor 
Katie.  She  had  almost  lost  control  of  her- 
self several  times  already,  but  now  it  was 
impossible  to  nuiintain  it  any  longer,  and 
she  went  otl' into  a  wild  burst  of  laughter. 
It  ])roved  contagious.  Dolores  caught  it, 
and  clung  to  Katie,  burying  herface  against 
her,  and  half  hiding  it  behiml  her. 

"His  .Majesty"  dropped  his  "cousin"  as 
though  he  had  been  shot,  and.  turning  round, 
regarded  the  l.vo  young  ladies  for  some  niin- 
lUcs  in  silence,  while  3lrs.  Russell  sat  rigid 
with  horror  at  this  shocking  irreverence. 
But  in  the  royal  eye,  as  it  rested  on  Katie, 
there  was  a  merry  twinkle,  until  at  length 
the  contagion  seized  upon  "  His  ^lajesfy" 
himself,  and  he  too  burst  forth  into  ])eals  of 
laughter.  After  this  even  ]Mrs.  Russell  join- 
ed in,  and  so  it  hai)]iene(l  that  the  King 
anil  the  three  ladies  enjoyed  (piite  a  pleas- 
ant season. 

The  King  at  length  recovered  from  his 
laughing  lit,  and  drew  himself  up  as  though 
preparing  for  business. 

"  Yc  see,"  said  he,  "Misther  Rus.scll  has 
committed  an  oilince  against  our  r'y'l  pray- 
rogatives,  an'  ayvcn  his  being  our  cousin 
doesn't  help  him,  so  it  doesn't,  for  ye  sec 
it's  a  toime  av  danger — the  habeas  corpus  is 
siispindid,  thrial  by  jury's  done  up;  there's 
only  martial  law,  an',  bo  jabcrs,  there's  a 
coort-nu\rtial  in  session  at  this  blessed  mo- 
mint  in  the  room  overhead.'' 

"Oh,  sire,''  exclaimed  Mrs.  Rnssell,  clasp- 
ing her  hand.s,  "they're  not  sitting  on  my 
poor  John  I'' 

"Sure  an'  it's  just  him,  an'  divil  a  one 
else,  so  it  is;  an'  it  "ud  be  mesilf  that  'ud 
be  i)roud  to  git  him  otTif  I  cud,  but  I  can't, 
for  law  is  law,  and  there  j'c  have  it ;  and 
though  wc  are  King,  yet  even  wc  liaven't 
any  power  over  the  law.  Fiat.jiis(itia,  mat 
ca'lum.  I've  got  no  more  conthrol  over  the 
law  than  over  the  weather.  But  we've  got 
somethin',  an'  that  is  a  heart  that  milts  at 
the  soight  av  beauty  iu  disthress." 


6 


72 


A.  CASTLE  IN  Sl'AIN. 


'•  Oil,  sire,"  said  Mrs,  llussell,  "spare  liiiii  I'' 

"  Jlis  .Miijcsty"  took  liur  baud, picssfd  il, 
aud  held  it  in  his. 

"Dearest  cousin,"  said  lu'/'yc  ax  iinpos- 
sihilitii's.  Law  is  an'  nuist  ijo  slni])rauiL'. 
Kvvn  now  tiu!  coort  is  ducidinir.  lint  in 
any  evint,  own  tiiu  worst,  yc  iiave  a  IVind 
in  us  —  constant,  tinder,  au'  tlirue;  in  any 
evint,  no  niattiicr  wind,  inoind  y<',  I  won't ; 
I'oryit.  .Nivcr,  nivorl  I'll  he  tlniie  to  nic 
word.  l\iniit  us  to  laymint  that  wu  had 
not  met  yc  lict'oor  the  laic — that  is,  bcfooi- 
John  linsscll  obtained  this  hand.  Nay. 
dhrop  not  that  beauchcous  head,  fair  one. 
Let  tlie  r'y'l  eye  f,'aze  on  those  eharrnnis. 
Our  r'y'l  .joy  is  to  bask  an'  sun  ourselves 
in  the  li}j;ht  av  loveliness  an"  beauty.'' 

The  strain  in  which  "  His  ^lajesty  "  spoke  | 
was  certainly  hii;h-tlown  and  jjerhaps  ex- 
travai^ant,  yet  his  intention  was  to  express 
tenderness  an<l  syni))athy.  and  to  Mrs.  lius- 
sell  it  seenietl  like  a  declaration  made  to 
her,  and  expressive  of  much  more.  Hiie 
felt  siiockcd,  it  is  true,  at  the  word  "late"' 
applied  to  her  'inforlunatc  luisband  l»y 
"His  .Majesty,"' yet  the  words  which  fol- 
lowed were  not  without  a  certain  consola- 
tion. 

"Oil.  that  it  were  possible,""  continued 
"llis  Majesty,"  "for  some  of  us  in  this  room 
to  be  more  to  one  another!  01'.,that  some 
one  here  would  allow  us  to  hope !  Let  her 
think  av  all  that  we  coidd  do  for  lier.  She 
sliould  be  the  sharer  av  our  heart  an" 
throne,  ller  lovely  brow  should  b(!  |:^raeed 
by  the  crown  av  S|)ain  an"  the  Injies.  She 
should  be  surrounded  by  the  homajie  av 
the  chivalry  av  Sjiain.  She  sliouhl  fill  the 
most  daz/.lin"  j)osition  in  all  the  wnrruld. 
Sheshoidd  be  the  cynosure  av  r"y"l  majistie 
beauty.  She  should  have  wealth,  an"  hon- 
ors, an"  titles,  an"  dijinities,  an'  jools,  an' 
gims,  all  jiowcred  ])ell-mell  into  her  lap; 
an"  all  the  power,  ulory, moiirht,  majisty,  an" 
dominion  av  the  impayrial  Spanish  mon- 
archy should  be  widin  the  ixra.p  av  her  lit- 
tle hand.     What  say  ye,  me  fair  one?"' 

All  this  ilorid  harangue  was  uttered  for 
the  benefit  of  Katie,  and,  as  he  spoke,  "  His 
Majesty  ""  kept  his  eyes  fixed  on  her,  hoping 
that  she  would  respond  by  some  glance  or 
sign.  Yet  all  the  time  that  he  was  speak- 
ing lie  was  unfortunately  holding  the  hand 
of  Mrs.  Russell,  who  very  naturally  took  all 
this  proposal  to  herself,  "llis  Majesty's" 
language  had  already  seemed  to  convey  the 
information  that  her  husband  had  ])assed 
away  from  earth,  and  was  now  the  "late"" 


John  Kussell ;  and  much  as  she  might 
mourn  over  the  l;.'.e  of  one  so  dear,  still  it 
could  not  be  but  that  the  devotion  of  one 
like  "His  Majesty"  should  touch  her  seii>i- 
live  heart.  So  when  these  last  words  came, 
and  brought  what  seemed  to  her  like  u  di- 
rect appeal,  she  was  deeply  moved. 

"What  say  yc,  me  fair  one?"  repeated 
••His  .Majesty '' with  greater  earnestness, 
trying  to  catch  Katie's  eye. 

3Irs.  Russell's  eyes  were  m<Klestly  bent 
downward  on  the  floor.  She  clung  to  tliu 
royal  hand. 

"Oh,  sire!"'  she  nuirnr.ired.  "Oh,  Ymir 
Royal  Majesty  !  I  am  thine — yours  forever 
— 1  cannot  refuse  I"' 

And  flinging  her  arms  about  him,  lui' 
head  sank  upon  his  shoulder. 


CHAPTER  XXL 

IN     WHICH    llllOdKK    .\SI)    T.M.IIOT    DKdlN    1  .    (il'.UW 
VliUV    WKI.I.    ACyCVINTKl). 

BitooKK"s  heart  sank  within  him  as,  fol- 
lowed by  Talbot,  he  once  more  entered  tln' 
old  mill.  He  knew  perfectly  well  that  hi- 
l)osilion  was  one  of  peril,  and  doubly  ^i 
from  the  part  which  he  had  been  ])layini:. 
The  jeering  laugh  of  these  merciless  sold  ier> 
kept  ringing  in  his  ears;  the  sneers  of  I.n. 
pez  and  his  bitter  taunts  could  not  be  li>i- 
gotten.  His  disguise  was  no  '(ngcrofaiiv 
value  either  to  himself  or  to  Talbot ;  lii- 
true  character,  when  declared,  seemed  even 
worse  in  the  eyes  of  these  men  than  his  as- 
sumed one  had  been.  To  them  a  C'arlist 
was  far  from  being  so  bad  as  a  news2)apui 
correspondent;  for  while  the  one  was  sin 
open  enemy,  the  other  was  a  secret  foe,  a 
traitor,  aiul  a  sjjy.  ^Moreover,  in  addition 
to  this,  there  was  the  fact  that  he  was  an 
American,  which,  instead  of  disarming  their 
rage,  had  only  intensified  it.  These  nun 
called  themselves  Repulilicans,  but  they 
were  Spaniards  also;  and  Spaniards  luiti' 
Americans.  They  cannot  forgive  the  greut 
republic  for  its  overshadowing  power  wliii  h 
menaces  them  in  the  New  WorUl,  and  li'.' 
the  mighty  attraction  which  it  exercises 
upon  disaffected  Cubans. 

Clreat  though  his  own  danger  might  lie, 
it  was  not,  however,  for  himself  that  Brooke 
feared.  It  was  for  Talbot.  Trusting  liii- 
self  implicitly  to  his  care  and  guidance,  she 
had  assumed  this  attire.  Among  the  Car- 
lists,  it  would  have  been  the  best  of  pro- 


A  CASTLE  IN  SPAIN. 


73 


tcctions  and  the  safest  of  disguises.  Ainonjj  I  the  tower,  I  would  never  let  you  go  with 
Hepul'lieans,  it  WHS  the  worMt  of  giubs.  Fo'|iiie;  I  would  make  my  journey  ulouc, 
many  of  the  S|)anish  Hepublieans  were  full    and — "' 

"I  think,"  interrupted  Ihooke,  " that  I 

shall  have  to  shut  up.      Come,  now,  h't'>i 

maki'  a  bargain.     I'll  say  no  mou:  aliout  it, 

if  you  ilon't.    Is  it  a  bargain  C 

'•  I  sujiposc  so." 

There  was  silence  now  for  a  short  time, 


nt"  French  communistic  sentiments,  and 
were  ready  to  wage  uar  with  all  priests, 
luid  eeelesiasts  of  all  forms  of  religion. 
What  could  save  Talbot  from  their  mur- 
ilcnnis  hands  i  It  was  too  late  now  for 
lar  to  go  back.  She  nuist  remain  a  priest, 
since  to  reveal  herself  in  her  true  character 
would  be  to  rush  on  to  certain  ilestruction. 
As  a  priest,  however,  she  was  e.\[)osed  to 
inevitai)le  danger;  she  must  brave  all  per- 
ils; anil  to  lirookc  there  seemed  not  one 
ray  of  hojje  for  her  safety 


after  which  IJrooke  saiil : 

"Talbot,  lad,  you  don't  object,  do  you, 

to  my  holding  your  hand  f 

"Object,  Brooke  I     Certainly  not." 

"  It    seems    to    have    the    ell'ect,"   .said 

Brooke,  "of  soothing  nu',  and  of  making 


They  went  back  to  the  loft,  and  hero  they  i  my  sclf-re])roaeh  less  keen." 
roaiained   in   silence   for  some   time.     At  |      "  When    you    hohl   n)y   hand,  Brooke," 
Icnglii  Brooke  spoke.  j  said  Talbot,  in  a  low  voice,  whose  tremor 

showed  unu>ual   iceling,  "  I  feel  stronger. 


"Tali»()t!" 

"  Well,  Brooke." 

"Give  nic  your  hand." 


and  all  my  weakness  leaves  me.     And  I 
like  best  of  all  what  you  said  to  me  about 

flic  slender  hand  of  Talbot  stole  into '  my  not  being  a  girl.  I  love  to  have  yon 
:,i>.     It  was  as  cold  as  ice."  call  me  'Talbot,"  for  it  st>unds  as  though 

•■Tall)otI"  said  Brooke,  in  a  tremulous  you  have  contulence  in  poor  inc :  but,  best 
voice,  holding  her  hand  in  a  fuin  gras|).       !  of  all,  I  love  to  hear  you  say  '  Talbot,  lad  ;' 

"Well.  Brooke."  i  for  it  si'cms  iis  though  you  look  on  me  as 

"Do  you  understand  the  danger  we  are  your  equal.  Your  tone  is  that  of  a  bravo 
iiiT  I  man  addressing  his  comrade,  and  the  very 

'•  Yes,  Brooke."  ■'  sound  of  your  voice  seems  to  drive  all  my 

"Do  you  forgive  mc  for  my  share  in    fear  away." 
Ininu'inii' vou  into  it  i"  I      "Good  bov  I"  said  Brooke,  in  a  harsh, 

'•  Brooke,"  said  Talbot,  reproachfully,  husky  voice.  Alter  which,  he  ileared  his 
"such  a  (juestion  is  ungenerou.x.  I  am  tiie  tiiroat  violently,  but  said  nothing  further 
only  cause  of  your  present  danger.     If  yint    for  a  while. 

had  been  alone,  without  such  a  fatal  incu- 1  "  You  .see,  Talbot,  lad,"  said  he,  at  la.st, 
bus  as  me,  you  might  easily  have  escaped  ;  |  "it  is  this:  I  have  a  leeling  that  I  can't 
or.  rather,  you  would  never  have  fallen  into  get  rid  of,  and  I've  had  it  ever  since  we 
il;uiger.  Oh,  I  know  —  I  know  oidy  too  left  the  tower.  The  feeling  is  this — tliat 
wli.that  you  have  thrown  away  your  life  you  are  my  younger  brother.  You  don't 
—or,  ratiier,  risked  it — to  save  me.''  ,  understand.     I'll  tell  you  about  him." 

As  Talbot  ended,  her  voice  died  away  in  |  "  Vour  younger  brother!"  said  Talbot,  in 
sciu'cc  audilile  tones,  which  were  full  of  in-  a  low  voice,  soft  and  unutterably  sweet. 
lU'scribable  pathos.  i  Then  a  little  siirh  followed,  and  she  .-alfled: 

BiDoke  gave  a  short  laugh,  as  usual.         |  "And  that  I  will  try  to  be  to  y<iu,  Brooke, 

"roohl"' said  he.  "Tut— tut;  stutVand  until  this  <langer  is  over.  But  you  must 
iiiinsen.se.     Talbot,  tlie  fact  is,  I've  lieen  a    bear  with  me,  and  not  be  angry  if  I  turn 

lockhead.  I've  got  you  into  a  tix,  and  out  sometimes  to  be  a  coward.'' 
:'ia're  the  sulTercr.  Now  I'm  quite  ready;  "A  coward?"  said  Brooke.  ''Come,  I 
M  die,  as  I  deserve,  for  getting  you  into  j  like  that.  "Why.  Talltot,  boy  though  you 
linger;  but  the  mischief  of  it  is,  what's  are.  there  is  enough  stulV  in  you  to  fit  out 
Idling  to  become  of  you  ?  I  swear  to  j-ou, ;  half  a  dozen  men.  You're  a  Talbot,  to  bc- 
T:ill)ot,  this  is  now  my  only  fear."  j  gin  with  ;  and,  in  addition  to  that,  yr)u  arc 

'•  Brooke,"  said  Talbot,  in  mournful  tones,  j  that  sort  of  a  i)erson  that  you  would  let 
"every  word  of  yours  is  a  reproach  to  me.  I  yourself  be  torn  in  pieces  for  the  sake  of 
^ouf(U•ce  mc  to  remember  how  base  I  have  '  a  comrade." 
eBliocn  in  allowing  you  to  .sacrifice  yourself        '-rni  glad  you  think  that  of  me,"  said 
'"or  me.     Oh,  if  I  cculd  only  recall  the  past  j  Talbot,  gently. 
t'i'w  hours !  if  we  were  only  back  again  in  i      "  I  was  going  to  tell  you  about  my  young- 


74 


A  CASTLE  IN  SPAIN. 


cr  lirDtli'T,"  siiid  Hrookc.  "  Wu  were  in 
C'ub.■ll<l,^M■tlu•I•,  wlitTc  tlic  liL,'litiii<,'\vtis— Just 
BUcli  11  country  as  lliis — and  I  was  tryini; 
to  work  my  way  alon;^  l)ctwc'un  the  two 
forces  so  as  to  <;c't  to  Matan/as.  Tlie  dan- 
ger was  IVi'^lill'ul.  iS'i'itlicr  side  ^ave  any 
<|uarter.  It  was  a  war  of  savancs,  anil  my 
cliief  anxiety  was  for  poor  Otto.  But  you 
never  saw  any  one.  pluckier  tiian  Ik;  was— 
as  cool,  as  eaini,  as  fearless  as  tli()n<;ii  he 
was  in  a  parlor.     So  we  went  for  weeks." 

"And  w  li;it  l)(;eame  of  him  <"'  asketl  Tal- 
bot, as  Brooke  paused. 

"We  escaped,"  said  he,  "  and  reached 
Matan/.as — l»ul  there — the  ])oor  boy — diet!. 
So  you  see,  Talbot,  since  you  have  joined 
me  my  memory  goes  back  to  those  Cuban 
days;  and  whenever  I  say  to  you  'Talbot, 
lad,'  it  seems  as  thoii;,di  I  am  speaking'  to 
my  <lear  lost  Otto.  And  here  let  mc  say, 
'J'alboi,  that  if  I  ever  seem  familiar,  you 
must  not  think  it  want  of  respect;  think 
rather  that  I  am  mistaking  you  for  Olto, 
and  forgive  it." 

"Do' not  say  that,"  said  Talbot.  "I 
should  prefer  to  have  you  think  of  me  as 
'  Otto,'  and  even  call  me  •  Otto.'  " 

"No,  Talbot,  boy,  you  have  your  own 
name,  and  by  that  1  will  call  you." 

"It  is  strange,  lirooke,"  said  Talbot. 
"We  have  only  known  one  another  for  a 
short  time,  but  it  seems  as  though  we  liad 
been  friends  for  a  lifetime.  1  suppose  this 
is  owing  to  the  feeling  of  comradeship 
which  has  sprung  up  l»etween  us — or  per- 
haps because  you  think  of  me  as  your 
younger  brother.  For  my  part,  I  feel  as 
thougli  we  two  were  comrades,  like  sol- 
diers that  we  road  of,  only  my  i)art  in  the 
liusiness  will  be  a  miserable  one,  1  fear. 
We  arc  brothers  in  arms.  Brooke,  aren't 
wo?"' 

"  Brothers  in  arms,"  said  Brooke,  in  a 
soft,  gentle  tone;  "yes,  Talliot,  lad,  that's 
exactly  what  we  arc.  Yes,  comrade,  we 
have  a  fight  before  us,  and  only  each  other 
to  rely  on." 

"  In  our  family,"  said  Talbot,  "  there  is 
a  cimeter  which  is  an  heirloom.  It  was 
brought  from  the  East  during  the  Cru- 
sades by  an  ancestor.  While  there,  he  was 
wounded  and  taken  prisoner  by  a  Saracen 
emir  named  Ilayreddin.  This  Saracen 
treated  him  with  chivalrous  generosity, 
and  a  warm  friendshij)  sprung  U|)  between 
them.  They  exchanged  arms,  the  Saracen 
taking  Talbot's  sword,  wliile  Talbot  took 
Hayreddin's  cimeter.     Ilayreddin  set  Tal- 


bot free.  Afterward  he  himself  was  taki  n 
l)risoner,  and  Talbot  was  fortunate  enouLrli 
to  ])rocur(!  his  freedom.  TIkj  cimeter  i- 
tlie  very  one  which  my  ancestor  brouL;lit 
back  from  the  Holy  liaud." 

"  You  and  I,"  said  Brooke,  in  a  cheery 
tone,"  will  Ih;  Talbot  and  Ilayreddin.  Yi  w 
are  the  Christian  knight,  and  I  am  lln' 
heathen.  It's  a  pity  we  can't  exchange 
arms." 

"  Y'cs,  we  can't  very  well  do  that." 
"We  can   exchange   somt'thing   at   any 
rate,  comrade,"'  sai<l  Brooke.     "  You  have; 
my  priest's  dress— let  me  have  soinethiiii,' 
of  yours  by  way  of  exchange." 

"But  what  can  1  giveC  said  Talbot. 
j      "Anything,  from   a  needle  to  a  needle- 
gun.     It  would  be  better  if  jiortalile  — an 
old  rilibon,  a  portable  pincu.-hion,  a  boot- 
lace." 

I  "  I  have  something,"  said  Talbot,  suddeii- 
•  ly, "  if  you  will  take  it,  Ihooke  ;  but  perhaj  • 
;  you  will  think  it  only  a  bother." 
I  "No,  Talbot,  lad,  brother  —  brother  in 
;  arms,  and  comraile  of  mine  I — nothing  that 
i  you  can  give  shall  be  regarded  as  other 
I  than  a  comrade's  jjledge." 

Talbot  withdrew  her  hand,  which  Brooko 
I  had  been  holding  all  tliis  time. 

"  Here  is  something,"'  saitl  she.  "  It  will 
'  do  better  than  anything  else." 

"What  is  it  ?"  asked  Brooke,  who  coulil 
'  not  ;-ee  in  the  gloom  what  it  was  that  slic 
j  olVered. 

I  "A  ring,"  said  Talbot,  in  a  voice  tlmt 
had  sunk  to  a  whisper. 

"A  ring,"  repeated  Brooke.     "  Is  it  your 

ring,  TallH)t  :•    Then  put  it  on  my  (ini,'(r 

with  your  own  hands,  comrade,  and  I  swear 

'  to  you  by  a  soldier's  word  that  it  shall  nev- 

I  cr  leave  me,  either  in  life  or  death."' 

j      Talbot  made  no  reply,  but  put  the  riii;:. 

i  which  she  had  detached  from  her  own  tin 

ger,  upon  the  little  linger  of  Brooke's  ki't 

hand. 

!      Not  a  word  was  said  by  either,  and  tluic 
was  now  a  long  silence,  which  was  finally 
broken  l)y  Brooke. 

!      "  Talbot,''  said  he,  "  don't  you  think  you 
can  sleep  a  little  ?" 
"  I'll  try." 

"  Do.  If  you  could  only  sleep  a  little,  I 
should  feel  very  glad  indeed." 

"I'll  try,"  said  Talbot  again,  "and  you 
must  not  suppose  that  I  am  awake." 

Talbot  now  drew  off  for  a  little  distance, 
while  Brooke  emaincd  as  before,  and  was 
leil  to  his  own  meditations.     All  was  still 


A  CASTLE  IN  Sl'AIN. 


75 


witliin,  niul  outsitU;  tlio  souiuls  gnuliiully 
U':<si'iiccl,  until  ftt  lenj^tli  tlicy  were  hcaril 
no  more.  Slowly  the  tinu;  piissfd,  ai\(l  to 
Urnokc  it  liiul  never  in  Ills  lil'i!  Hci'incd  so 
loni,'.  Not  a  soiiml  csca[)t'cl  tVoni  'I'ulljot. 
\V,i-i  she  asii'cp  ? 

'■  Talbot,  lad  1"  said  llrooUc,  in  a  low  voicr. 

"  VVt'll,  Brooke,"  was  the  t,'entlo  reply.        , 

'•  Have  you  been  asleei)  i'^  I 

"Oh— well— a  little." 

"No,  Talbot,"'  Kaid  IJrooke,  "you  have 
not  been  asleep.  And  you  say  that  you 
wtTi!  merely  to  niak(!  it  plea-^ant  lor  me. 
You  are  lull  of  aniruish,  Talbot,  but  you 
keep  lip  a  ciieerriil  tone  so  as  not  to  adil 
to  my  i)urdens.  You  see  1  know  it  all, 
Tiilbot.  anil  unilerst:md  you  thoroii!,'hly,  so 
there  need  not  be  any  I'urllier  clissiniula- 
tion."' 

"Ih'ooke,"'  said  Talbot,  "you  arc  fever- 
ish from  anxii.'ty,  and  fanciful.  IJe  your- 
self. Sing  one  of  your  droll  songs.  Talk 
nonsense.  If  you  go  on  in  this  mournful 
strain,  you  will  make  nu;  break  down  ut- 
terly."' 

At  this  IJrooko  drew  a  long  breath. 
'■Forgive  me,  Tall)ot,'"  he  said.  "I  really 
don't  know  what  has  come  over  me.  If  I 
were  alone  I  could  sleep  as  sound  as  a  top, 
liiit  anxiety  about  another  is  a  different 
tiling.  Still,  you  are  right,  and  I  mean  to 
turn  the  conversation  to  some  other  sub- 
ject. A  song,  did  you  aay  ?  Very  well, 
ily-llie-bye, did  you  ever  hear  this? 

"  '  oil,  .loiiny  .tones  was  sx  lovely  Ral, 
Ami  hci'  tiioUior  workul  iv  ihmiiu'Io; 
Slin  full  ill  love  with  n  tliio  youn;^  lail, 
WUo  placed  on  the  triaii^^lc'  " 

Brooke  liummod  this,  and  then  stopped. 

"  I  never  heard  it  before,''  said  Talbot. 
"Sing  the  rest.  Now  you  arc  yourself 
ai;'iiin.  "Whatever  you  feel,  Brooke,  don't 
speak  of  it,  but  laugh,  and  je.->t,  and  sing  old 
-ii'aps  of  songs." 

'•  I  won't,"  said  Brooke.  "  I'll  sing  noth- 
ing more, and  I'll  say  nothing  more." 

Talbot  made  no  reply, 

Brooke  was  true  to  his  resolution,  and 
said  not  another  word.  Talbot  was  as  si- 
knt  as  he.  Each  had  thoughts  which  were 
all -engrossing.  Neither  spoke,  but  each 
knew  perfectly  well  that  the  other  was 
^viile  awake,  and  full  of  care. 

Thus  the  night  passed  away,  with  its 
long,  long  hours.  It  seemed  interminable ; 
but  at  length  it  came  to  an  end,  as  all 
'lic'hts   must,  however   long.     The   dawn 


came,  and  the  two  could  sec  each  other. 
Eai  h  sat  propped  up  against  tho  wall. 
Ni.ither  one  sjioke  for  a  long  time,  tmtil  it 
was  broad  day,  when  Brooke,  w  ho  had  been 
watching  Talbot's  face  until  it  grew  fully 
revealed,  broke  the  silence  with  a  slight 
cough.     Talbot  tiu'ned  and  siniliil. 

"(.lood- morning,"  said  Brooke.  "We 
seem  to  be  having  (piitt!  a  spell  of  weather, 
tiuite  a  line;  view  from  these  w  indows.  You 
haven't  been  out  yet,  I  suppose  T' 

"Not  yet,"  said  Talbot. 

"  Well,"  said  Brooke,  "  we  must  take  ii 
walk  after  breakfast: 

I  "  'Oil,  if  I  wa«  the  (iwiier  of  I.findoii  town, 

I  I'd  liny  my  love  u  fearlet  ijowii — 

i  A  L'owil  ofHcarlet  hoiiibaziiie, 

1  And  iiway  we'd  liavcl  to  Uretiiu  tircen.' " 

I  "  Have  you  ever  been  there?''  asked  Tal- 
bot, trying  to  assume  Brooke's  own  careless 
tone. 

"  Yes,  Tall)ot;  of  course  I  have.  Every 
American  makes  a  pilgrimage  there  when 
he  visits  England.    As  the  poet  says: 

"  '  I  have  been  there,  and  Hiill  would  go; 
"i'i(«  liUe  u  lltUo  lieavun  Ivlow.' 

Talbot!'' 

Brooke's  voice  changed. 

"Well,  Brooke." 
I     "Can  you  be  sure  of  yourself  this  dtiy  ? 
Can  you  sttuul  it  i"' 
I      "Yes,  Brooke." 

"Are  you  sure?"' 
I     "  Y'es,  Brooke." 

"Oh, Talbot, Talbot!  don't  shrink!  Oh, 
I  Talbot,  don't  falter!  For  my  sake,  don't 
I  let  mc  see  you  falter,  Talbot,  or  I  sludl  break 
I  down.  A  lone  I  could  let  myself  be  tortured 
!  to  death  by  (\,.;i;iiiehes,  iuid  I'd  sing  my 
■death-song  as  bravely  as  Mullins  Bryan; 
,  l)Ut  mark  this,  T;>ll)ot:  if  you  break  down, 
if  you  even  falter,  I'm  a  lost,  ruined,  luid 
i  dishonored  man.  ^Vill  ynu  rememi)er  that, 
,  Talbot  r 

As  he  spoke  these  v  ords,  Brooke's  voice 
had  a  thrill  in  it  that  Talbot  had  never 
;  heard  l)eforc. 

I     "Biook.',"saidshe,"Iwillbcfirm.    Rath- 
er than  show  any  weakness,  I  will  die.'' 
j      "That's  very  good,"  said  Brooke.    "Your 
I  hand  on  it,  Talbot." 

I  She  held  out  her  htind.  He  pressed  it 
with  a  convulsive  grasp. 

"  Y'ou  will  not  forget  ?"  he  asked,  eagerly. 

"I  cannot  forget,'' she  answered, simply. 

"Good  lad!"  said  Brooke.    He  dropped 


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78 


A  CASTLE  IN  SPAIN. 


lior  hand,  nncl  at  once  resumed  his  careless 
manner.  "And  now,"  said  he,  "we  can 
continue  our  music : 

"  'For  there  the  historic  blacksmith  elands—' 

Gretna  Green,  you  know — 

" '  Aud  hammers  away  at  the  marriage  bauds.' 

Only  he  don't  do  so  now,  you  know,  for 
he's  dead  and  gone,  and  they've  got  new 
marriage  laws." 

Not  long  after  this  a  man  came  up  M'ith 
Ji  ilask  of  Aviue  and  some  rolls.  Brooke 
took  them  from  him  and  brought  them 
over. 

" Talbot,"  said  he,  "yon  tlon't  want  to 
eat — in  fact,  at  this  moment  you  hate  food. 
But  while  I  am  with  you  I'm  your  master, 
and  I  now  command  you  to  eat.  Moreover, 
let  mc  add  that  it  is  necessary  to  eat,  or 
else  you  may  grow  faint ;  and  then,  when 
there  comes  a  chance  of  escape,  you  won't 
be  able  to  walk,  and  I  shall  have  to  carry 
you,  don't  you  see  ?  And  now  won't  you 
eat,  just  for  the  sake  of  saving  me  from  un- 
necessary fatigue  ?" 

"I  will  eat  if  you  will,"  said  Talbot. 

"Eat!"  exclaimed  Brooke.  "What!  I 
cat?  Oh,  well,  I  don't  mind.  For  that 
matter,  I'd  just  as  soon  eat  a  pair  of  boots 
as  not." 

He  broke  off  a  fragment  of  bread  and 
ate  it.  Talbot  did  the  same,  and  thus  both 
forced  themselves  to  eat,  and  each  did  this 
for  the  sake  of  the  other. 

Til'  said  nothing  wliile  thus  forcing 
themselves  to  eat.  The  thought  that  was 
present  to  each  was  enough  to  occupy  the 
mind,  and  it  was  one  which  could  not  be 
put  in  words.  Brooke  saw  Death  awaiting 
himself,  and,  worse  than  that,  he  saw  Tal- 
bot—ahnc,  friendless,  despairing,  in  the 
hands  of  remorseless  fiends.  Talbot,  on  the 
other  hand,  saw  Death  awaiting  Brooke, 
and  never  could  shake  otf  the  torturing 
thought  that  liis  death  was  owing  to  her, 
and  that  he  was  virtually  dying  for  her. 
Had  it  not  been  for  her  he  might  still  have 
been  safe.  And  it  seemed  to  her  to  be  a 
very  hard  and  bitter  thing  that  such  a  man 
as  this  should  have  to  die  in  such  a  way. 
and  that  she  should  be  the  cause.  Ah !  it 
became  very  hard  for  her  to  keep  her  prom- 
ise to  maintain  her  coolness,  am'  to  force 
back  those  tears  and  those  cries  that  were 
ready  to  burst  forth,  beyond  control.  Yet 
such  was  this  girl's  high  nature  that  she 
could  crush  down  her  weak  woman's  heart, 


and  turn  toward  Brooke  a  face  in  which 
there  was  not  a  trace  of  emotion,  and  speak 
in  a  voice  without  a  tremor. 

Soon  a  man  appeared  once  more,  thrust- 
ing his  head  up  into  the  loft,  and  in  a  stern 
voice  he  ordered  them  to  come  down. 

Brooke  rose.  He  did  not  look  at  Tall-nt. 
Ho  walked  toward  the  ladder,  droning  out 
in  a  nasal  whine,  to  a  niost  extraordinary 
tune,  the  following  words: 

"Come  on,  yon  tnninl  Mingo, 

I'll  mnlie  yon  wiillc  your  chnllvS; 
D'ye  think  I  care,  l;y  jing<,! 

For  nil  yer  tomaliawks? 
I'm  more  of  Salamander 

And  less  of  mortal  niiiij : 
Yon  cannot  shake  my  dander, 

I'm  a  rale  American  !' 

At  the  opening  he  paused,  aud  looked 
back  at  Talbot's  i)ale  face. 

"Did  you  ever  hear  the  death-song  of 
Mullins  Bryan  ?''  he  asked. 

"  ITo,"  said  Talipot. 

"  H'm  !  I  suppose  not,"  said  Brooke. 

He  then  went  down,  and  Talbot  followed. 


CHAPTER  XXII. 

now    TALDOT    UAS    LIKE    AND    KUEEDOM    OFFEREr, 
AND   now  SIIK   DECLI.NES  THE    OFFER. 

Outside,  Lopez  was  seated  uj)on  a  stone 
which  stood  close  by  the  foundation  wall 
of  the  mill,  and  near  him  were  about  a  doz- 

I  en  of  his  followers.  The  rest  of  the  banil 
were  at  a  distance,  and  were  all  variously 
occupied.  Some  v.-ere  lolling  on  the  grass, 
smoking ;  others  were  lying  clown  as  though 
trying  to  sleep ;  others  were  s(iuatting  on 
their  haunches  in  groups,  talking  and  ges- 
ticulating; others  were  wandering  away  i:i 
different  directions. 

!  All  this  was  taken  in  at  a  glance  by 
Brooke  as  he  came  out,  followed  by  Talbot. 
after  which  he  turned  and  faced  Lopez. 

'  The  latter  regarded  him  with  sharp  scrii- 

I  tiny  for  some  time,  after  which  he  looked 
in  the  same  way  at  Talbot.  The  gaze  wns 
returned  by  Talbot  calmly,  quietly,  and  tin- 
shrinkingh',  without  boldness, and  yet  witli- 

'  oiit  shyness.  It  was  as  though  she  wislied 
to  read  the  true  character  of  this  man,  so  a? 

j  to  see  what  hope  there  might  be. 

"  Your  name  1"  said  Lopez  to  Brooke,  in 

'  a  tone  of  command. 

I      "Baleigh  Brooke,"  said  he. 

I  "  Senor  Brooke,"  said  Lopez,  "  you  must 
be  aware  that  the  accounts  which  you  gave 


A  CASTLE  IN  SPAIN. 


of  yourself  last  night  were  very  contradic- 
tory. Even  at  the  best,  you  are,  according 
to  your  ovn  statement,  a  newspaper  corre- 
spondent, which  in  our  eyes  is  the  .same  as  a 
spy.  But  more  tlmn  this,  you  confess  your- 
self to  be  an  American,  which  makes  it  still 
worse.  And  so,  seiior,  you  see  that  you  are 
iu  an  awkward  positim.  But  this  is  not 
nil.  There  is  something  more  that  I  must 
ask.  You  speak  of  having  come  on  in 
trains— tliat  were  stopped.  Were  you  not 
on  that  train  which  ,vas  stopped  by  the 
Ciirlists?" 

"  No,"  said  Brooke,  firmly,  and  without  a 
moment's  hesitation. 

That  was  false,  of  course  ;  but  Brooke  had 
already  identified  himself  with  Tali)ot,  for 
liiT  sake,  and  had  told  a  story  to  which  he 
was  now  forced  to  adhere.  It  woukl  have 
liccn  f\ir  better  jf  he  had  told  the  truth  at 
the  outlet,  I)ut  it  was  too  late  now.  So  he 
answered  "  No." 

'One  of  our  men  came  on  by  the  train 
in  which  yon  say  you  came,"  continued  Lo- 
ji'?z,  "and  has  no  recollection  of  you." 

"Very  possii)lc,"  said  Brooke,  coolly; 
"and  I  don't  suppose  I  havo  any  recollec- 
tion of  him.  People  can't  remember  all 
who  come  and  go  in  railway  trains,  even  in 
America, where  all  the  carriages  are  in  one; 
liut  here,  where  each  car  is  divided  into 
coaches,  how  can  one  know  anything  about 
his  fellow-passengers  ?'' 

"  I  came  in  the  train  that  was  stopped  by 
the  Carlists,"  said  Lopez. 

"  Did  you  see  me  there  ?"  asked  Brooke. 

"  No,"  said  Lopez ;  "  but  th^rc  was  a 
priest." 

"Was  that  the  priest?"  asked  Brooke, 
pointing  to  Talbot. 

"No,'  said  Lopez — "  nr^i  at  all.  This 
priest  that  I  refer  to  had  a  beard,  and  wore 
spectacles :  he  was  a  totally  dift'ereni,  man 
tVoin  your  friend." 

Lopez  now  jjaused  and  reflected  for  a 
few  moments. 

"  Come,"  said  he  at  length,  "  I'll  give  you 
!\  chance.  I'm  not  cruel ;  I  hate  bloodshed ; 
nud  I  don't  care  about  shooting  prisoners 
I'ven  when  they're  spies.  We  all  look  on 
you  as  a  spy,  but  I'll  give  you  a  chance  to 
save  yourself.  I'll  tell  you  all  frankly.  It 
I  is  this: 

"  I  myself  came  on  in  that  train  that  was 
stn])pe(l  by  the  Carlists.  In  that  same 
I  train  there  was  a  party  of  English  ladies 
iind  gentlemen.  All  of  the  passengers,  my- 
self included,  were  robbed ;  but,  mark  you, 


while  ihe  natives  were  permitted  to  go 
away  in  safety,  these  English— ladies,  mind 
you,  as  well  as  gentlemen — v'rc  detained 
by  the  Carlists.  Now,  of  course,  these  so- 
called  Carlists  are  merely  brigands,  or  else 
they  would  not  have  captured  and  robbed 
a  party  of  inofi'ensive  travellers,  and  still 
less  would  they  have  detained  tliem  as  pris- 
oners. They  are  brigands,  then,  and  of 
course  they  intend  to  exact  a  ransonx  from 
their  prisoners,  and  of  course  if  the  ran- 
som is  not  paid  they  will  shoot  every  one 
of  them. 

"  Well,  after  I  had  escaped  from  their 
clutches  I  conununicated  at  once  with  the 
military  authorities,  and  reported  the  cap- 
ture of  these  travellers.  They  immediately 
ordered  me  to  take  a  detachment  of  men 
and  set  ofl"  in  pursuit.  This  is  our  2)resent 
errand.  You  now  know  all ;  and  if  you 
are  a  true  man,  you  will  at  once  not  only 
sympathize  with  our  present  undertaking, 
but  you  will  lend  us  all  the  aid  in  your 
power  ;  you  will  tell  us  all  you  know  ;  you 
will  be  as  frank  with  me  as  I  have  iieen 
with  you,  and  help  us  to  save  these  unfort- 
unate ladies  from  a  tate  worse  than  death." 

"Senor  Captain,"  said  Brooke,  without 
hesitating  for  one  instant, "  I  thank  you  for 
your  frankness,  but  it  is  of  no  possil)lc  value 
to  me.  I  have  come  from  a  dift'erent  direc- 
tion, and  cannot  be  of  the  slightest  assist- 
ance in  this  matter." 

"  Oh,  very  well,"  said  Lopez,  coldly.  ''As 
I  said  before,  I  am  merciful,  and  hate  shoot- 
ing prisoners  in  coUl  blood.  But  mark 
this :  if  it  is  necessary  I  will  not  hesitate. 
I  will  allow  you  this  day  to  tliink  over 
what  I  have  said.  And  now,  what  about 
this  priest  ?" 

"  He  is  an  English  priest,"  said  Brooke, 
calmly,  "  and  cannot  understand  Spanish." 

"  Very  well,  you  shall  act  as  interpreter. 
In  the  first  place,  his  name  and  residence?" 

"  Sydney  Talbot,"  said  Brooke, "  of  Lon- 
don." 

"What  are  you  doing  in  this  country?" 
asked  Lopez  directly  of  Tali)ot. 

"I  came  on  a  visit  to  Barcelona,"  said 
Talbot  in  reply,  as  Brooke  translated  the 
question. 

"  For  what  purpose  ?" 

"  On  a  visit  to  friends  ?" 

"What  friends?" 

"  English  people." 

"  Name  ?" 

"  Rivers,"  said  Talbot,  calmly,  and  with- 
out a  moment's  hesitation.     All  this  was 


78 


A  CASTLE  IN  SPAIN. 


news  to  Brooke,  who  luitl  never  learned 
her  private  history  or  the  secret  ofher  jour- 
ney to  Spain. 

"  You  do  not  know  the  hmguagc  i  You 
cannot  iiave  Ije^n  hmg  in  Spain?" 

"No — only  a  week." 

"A  very  siiort  visit,"  said  Lopez.  "Did 
you  come  so  far  only  to  remain  a  week  V 

"No,"  .said  Talbot,  "1  expected  to  stay 
mucli  longer." 

"AVhy  did  you  not  stay?" 

"  Because  1  found  on  my  arrival  that  tlie 
family  had  left  Barcelona." 

"  Where  did  they  go  ?" 

"  I  have  no  idea." 

"  Were  tliey  not  expecting  you  ?" 

"I  supposed  that  they  were  expecting 
me,  and  I  am  (piite  unable  to  account  for 
their  departure  and  their  failure  to  meet 
me." 

"And  so  you  set  out  on  your  return 
home  ?" 

"  Yes." 

"  Well,"  said  Lopez,  "  your  story  is  a 
little  absurd,  yet  not  at  all  improbable.  I 
dare  say  there  was  a  mistake  somewhere." 

"Tiierc  must  have  been  —  yet  I  don't 
know." 

"  Young  sir,"  said  Lopez,  after  a  pause, 
"you  carry  your  character  in  your  face. 
You  at  least  are  not  a  spy.  \J[)on  tliat  I 
would  stake  my  life.  I  wish  1  could  say 
ns  much  for  your  companion.  All  Spaii- 
iards — at  least  all  Republicans — would  not 
let  a  priest  oil"  so  easily;  b'lt  you  are  dill'er- 
cnt,  and  I  could  no  more  suspect  you  than 
I  could  suspect  the  apostle  St.  John. 
Senor,  you  are  free ;  you  maj  go  on  your 
way  at  once." 

"  Senor,  you  arc  free,  and  may  go  on  your 
way  at  once,"  repeated  Brooke,  as  a  Hush 
of  joy  passed  over  his  face.  "  Go,  Talbot, 
go,"  he  added  earnestly;  "go  at  once!" 

But  Talbot  did  not  move. 

"I  am  deeply  grateful,  captain,"  said  she, 
"but  I  prefer  to  remain  witli  my  friend." 

"Talbot!"  cried  Brooke. 

"  Tell  him  w  hat  I  say,"  was  Talbot's 
calm  reply. 

"  You  arc  mad !"  groaned  Brooke. 

"What  is  all  this  2"  cried  Lopez,  angri- 
ly.    "  What  docs  the  priest  say  V 

"The  priest  says  that  he  will  not  go," 
replied  Brooke — "  that  he  will  stay  by  me." 

"Oil,  he  does,  does  he?"  said  Lopez. 
"  Well,  that's  all  the  l)etter  for  you.  You'll 
need  him,  especially  if  you  persist  in  your 
obstinacy." 


Brooke  translated  this,  and  Talbot  lis 
tened  without  a  word. 

Brooke  was  now  ordered  back  into  tlu 
mill,  and  he  went,  Talbot  following.  On 
reaching  the  loft,  they  both  were  silent  fur 
a  long  tiuie.     Brooke  spoke  first. 

"Oh,  Talbot,  Talbot!"  he  cried,  in  ;i 
I'cproaehful  voice,  "  why  didn't  you  go; 
You  had  the  chance." 

"Go!''  exclaimed  Talbot.  "What!  gn 
and  leave  you  T' 

"  Of  course,"  said  Brooke. 

"What!  when  you  have  risked  j'our  life, 
and  are  in  such  danger  of  death,  for  me; 
Oh,  Brooke,  ISrooke !  Is  this,  then,  your 
opinion  of  me  ?  Can  you  think  me  cap:i- 
ble  of  such  utter  baseness?'' 

"  Talbot,"  said  Brooke,  "  it  was  to  save 
your  life  that  I  left  the  tower,  and  now  you 
will  not  save  yourself" 

"Save  myself!  save  my  worthless  life  I 
I  should  scorn  it  if  I  must  leave  you  to 
die.  Never!  never  !  Now,  may  God  do  si 
to  me,  and  more  also,  if  aught  but  death 
part  thee  and  me — that  is,  till  we  escajK 
and  are  out  of  danger.  Wo  must  cscajK 
together.  You  shall  never  lay  down  your 
life  for  me."' 

Talbot  spoke  with  the  air  of  one  whost 
resolution  was  immovable.  Brooke's  agita 
tion  Mas  intense. 

"  Talbot,'  he  cried,  "  you  arc  mad.  Yoi; 
don't  know  these  men.  They  are  remor^t- 
less  fiends.  They  wiil  wreak  their  ven- 
geance on  you  as  well  as  on  me.'' 

"  Let  them,''  said  Talbot,  iirmly. 

"  I  tell  you,''  cried  Brooke,  in  vehemcr.: 
tones,  "that  I  have  a  duty  to  peiform  ami 
ii  battle  to  tight.  I  have  to  be  constnii! 
until  death  to  my  duty;  but  if  you  stay  lij 
me — if  you  remain — if  you  arc  still  in  piii! 
— oh,  Talbot !  I  shall  be  false  to  mj  duty- 
for  your  sake." 

"No,  Brooke,"  said  Talbot,  "you  wiii 
never  be  false  to  your  duty  for  my  saki'. 
You  will  be  true,  and  I  will  stand  l)y  you. 
You  shall  never  sec  mc  deserting  you.  li 
you  have  any  friendsliip  for  me,  you  A\iii 
be  glad  to  see  your  friend  by  your  side  in 
the  hour  of  your  trial." 

"  It's  not  that  —  it's  not  that !"'  ciicJ 
Brooke.  "  Good  heavens !  you  will  lu'i 
understand.  Do  you  not  see  that  if  you 
remain  you  will  soon  be  alone  in  the  work!, 
and  then — who  will  defend  ycni  ?" 

"  I  understand  well  what  you  mean. 
said  Talbot,  firmly.  "You  ox])ect  to  die 
and  do  not  wish  to  leave  mc  here  atom 


A  CASTLE  IN  SPAIN. 


79 


iiinong  these  rufRant*.  Never  fear  for  me. 
Heaven  will  proteet  me.  But  you  must 
know  lliid  well,  imd  I  say  it  once  for  all, 
I  will  not  leave  you.  I  cannot  be  false  or 
dishonorable.  I  can  die.  Yes,  Brooke,  I 
(';in  die,  for  I  remember  how  you  told  mc 
that  I  am  an  English  lad.  We  Talbots 
have  given  up  onr  lives  in  every  genera- 
tion for  what  we  believe  to  be  the  good 
cause;  and  the  last  of  the  Talbots  can  die 
gladly  rather  than  desert  a  friend." 

Brooke  turned  away.  A  sol)  burst  from 
him.  In  vain  he  tried  to  restrain  it.  Then 
tliere  followed  an  exceedingly  bitter  cr}'. 

"  Talbot  1  Talbot  I  By  heaven,  you'll 
luvak  my  heart!" 

••  01),  Brooke  1"  cried  Talbot,  "  be  calm — 
oh,  Ije  calm  !  I  say  to  you,  as  you  said  to 
me,  be  calm  for  my  sale ;  for  if  you  lose 
vour  sulf- control  I  shall  break  down  ut- 
terly." 


CHAPTER  XXIII. 

IN   WHICH    DROOKK   AND    TALUOT   KXCHAKGE   CONFI- 
DENCES. 

Afteu  some  time  Brooke  grew  calmer. 

"And  now,"  said  Talbot,  "  tell  me  all 
tiiat  took  place  between  you  and  this  olH- 
ccr,  for  I  have  not  understood," 

Brooke  told  her  all. 

'•  And  why  can't  you  do  \\'hat  he  asks  ?" 
said  Talbot,  in  surjjrise.  '•  Why  can't  you 
take  them  to  that  castle  ?  You  were  there, 
and  when  there  you  say  you  recognizcil 
the  Carlist  chief  himself,  the  very  man  who 
stopped  the  train.  He  must  have  the  Eng- 
lisli  prisoners  there.  Do  you  mean  to  say 
tiiat  you  will  not  help  tlioso  poor  cap- 
tives ?" 

"  I  cannot,"  said  Brooke. 

"  Cannot  ?" 

•'Look  here,  Talbot!  I've  thouglit  it 
all  over  and  over,  and  I  cannot.  Honor 
forljids.  Let  me  explain.  You  see,  while 
wandering  about  here,  I  have  frequently 
fallen  into  the  hands  of  either  party,  and 
have  often  been  in  as  great  danger  as  now, 
yet  I  have  always  escai)ed.  iMore  than 
this,  I  have  pai)er8  from  the  leading  men 
of  both  sides,  which  testify  to  my  charac- 
ter. I  am  therefore  in  honor  bound  never, 
under  any  circumstances,  to  betray  one  par- 
ty to  the  other,  and  that,  too,  no  matter 
what  my  own  feelings  may  be.  I  came 
here  as  a  neutral,  a  stranger,  a  correspond- 
ent, to    get  information  for  the  distant 


American  public.  That  is  my  Ijusiness 
here.  But  the  moment  I  begin  to  betray 
one  of  these  parties  to  the  other  in  any 
shape  or  way,  the  moment  I  communicate 
to  others  the  information  which  I  may  have 
gained  in  confidence,  that  moment  I  be- 
come an  infernal  scoundrel.'' 

"  True,  Brooke,  very  true!"'  said  Talbot; 
"  but  don't  you  see  how  ditVerent  this  thing 
is  ?  Here  is  a  i)arty  of  travellers  captured 
by  brigands,  and  held  to  ransom.  You  arc 
merely  asked  to  show  the  way  to  their 
prison,  so  that  they  may  be  set  free  by  their 
friends.  What  betrayal  of  coulidence  is 
there  in  this  V 

"  I  say  that  in  any  way  in  which  I  tell 
one  of  these  parties  aljout  the  doings  of 
the  other,  I  betray  the  contidence  which 
has  been  placed  in  me.'' 

"And  I  say,  Brooke,  that  if  yon  leave 
these  English  ladies  in  the  hands  of  mer- 
ciless villains  to  languish  in  captivity,  to 
sutTer  torment,  and  perhaps  to  die  a  cruel 
death,  you  will  be  guilty  of  an  unpartlon- 
able  sin  —  an  ollence  so  foul  that  it  will 
haunt  your  last  hours  !'' 

''No  woman,"  said  Brooke,  "can  under- 
stand a  man's  sense  of  honor." 

"Sir,"  said  Talbot,  with  indescribable 
haughtiness, "you  forget  my  name.  Trust 
me,  sir,  no  Talbot  ever  lived  who  failed 
one  jot  or  tittle  in  the  extremcst  demand 
of  honor.  I,  sir,  am  a  Talbot,  and  have  no 
need  to  go  to  you  for  information  on  points 
of  honor.  Jlore  than  tliis,  I  say  that  you 
are  utterly  wrong ;  and  that  if  you  leave 
those  English  ladies  in  the  hands  of  these 
Spanish  miscreants  you  will  do  foul  ollence, 
not  only  to  the  honor  of  a  gentleman,  but 
even  to  the  instincts  of  humanity." 

"Forgive  me, Talbot," said  Brooke, meek- 
ly. "I  don't  mean  wliat  you  think.  When 
I  spoke  of  a  man's  sense  of  Ixmor,  I  refer- 
red to  his  life  of  action,  with  all  its  conflict 
of  tluty  and  honor,  and  all  those  compli- 
cated motives  of  which  a  woman  in  her  re- 
tirement can  know  nothing." 

"  Believe  me,  Brooke,"  said  Talbot,  ear- 
nestly, "women  who  are  lookers-on  are  of- 
ten better  and  safer  judges  than  men  who 
are  in  the  midst  of  action.  Trust  me,  and 
take  my  advice  in  this  matter.  What  I  is 
it  possible  that  you  can  have  the  heart  to 
leave  these  English  ladies  to  a  fate  of  hor- 
ror among  brigamls  i" 

"  You  put  it  strongly,  Talbot,  but  that  is 
only  a  partial  view.  In  brief  you  ask  me 
to  betray  to  the  enemy  a  place  which  I  may 


80 


A  CASTLE  IN  SPAIN. 


inform  you  happens  to  be  one  of  the  curdi- 
niil  points  in  the  strategy  of  the  Carlist 
generiils.  I  do  not  know  for  certain  that 
tiie  ladies  are  there;  and  if  they  arc,  I  do 
not  believe  that  they  will  be  badly  treated. 
A  ransom  will  perhaps  be  exacted,  but  noth- 
ing more.  On  the  whole,  I  should  far  rather 
fall  into  the  hands  of  the  Carlists  than  the 
Ilcpul)licans.  The  Carlists  are  generous 
mountaineers,  tlie  peasantry  of  the  North; 
the  Kcpublicans  are  tiie  communist  mobs 
of  the  Southern  cities.  I  have  seen  very 
much  of  I)()th  sides,  and  think  the  Carlists 
l)ctter  men  every  way  —  more  chivalrous, 
more  merciful,  and  more  religious.  I  am 
not  afraid  about  those  prisoners.  I  feel 
convinced  that  when  the  general  hears  of 
tiieir  capture  he  will  set  them  free  himself 
At  any  rate,  I  cannot  interfere.  To  do  so 
would  l)e  a  hideous  piece  of  treachery  on 
my  part.  For  me  to  betray  to  the  Repub- 
licans tliis  great  and  important  Carlist  for- 
tress, which  has  become  known  to  me  by 
the  favor  and  the  confidence  of  the  Carlist 
chiefs,  would  i)e  a  thing  of  horror  and  dis- 
honor. I  would  die  first,  Talbot.  So  don't 
say  any  more.  If  anything  could  make  me 
false  to  my  honor  and  duty,  it  would  be 
your  entreaties.  I  may  be  wrong,  after  all, 
l)ut  I  must  act  by  my  own  sense  of  right. 
Would  you  wish  me  to  save  my  life,  and 
always  afterward  have  the  thought  that  I 
had  stained  my  honor  V 

"  No,  Brooke,"  said  Tali)ot ;  "  and  since 
you  feel  in  this  way  I  will  say  no  more 
about  it." 

Silence  now  followed.  Brooke  seated 
himself  on  the  floor  with  his  back  against 
the  wall,  and  Talbot  stood  looking  at  him 
as  he  thus  sat. 

This  man,  who  led  a  life  which  required 
some  of  the  (pialities  of  the  hero,  had  noth- 
ing particularly  heroic  in  his  outward  as- 
pect, lie  was  a  man  of  medium  size,  and 
sinewy,  well-knit  frame.  He  had  keen, 
gray  eyes,  which  noticed  everytiiing,  and 
could  penetrate  to  the  inner  core  of  things ; 
close-cropped  hair,  short  serviceable  beard, 
of  that  style  which  is  just  now  most  affect- 
ed by  men  of  restless  energy;  a  short, 
straight  nose,  and  a  general  air  of  master- 
ful self-restraint  and  self-possession.  Not 
a  handsome  man,  strictly  speaking,  was  our 
friend  Brooke;  not  by  any  means  a  "  lady's 
man ;"  but  he  was  something  better,  inas- 
much as  he  was  a  manly  man,  one  who 
would  be  trusted  thorougldy  and  followed 
blindly  by  other  men,  ay,  and  by  women 


too;  for,  after  all,  it  is  not  the  lady's  man 
who  is  appreciated  by  true  vvonen,  but  tlu 
man's  man.  To  such  as  tliese  the  best  soit 
of  women  delight  to  do  reverence.  Adil  t(; 
this  Brooke's  abrupt  manner,  rv  er  harsh 
voice,  inconsequential  talk,  habit  of  saying 
one  thing  while  thinking  of  somethinL; 
totally  dirt'erent,  love  of  drollery,  and  dry, 
short  laugh,  and  then  you  have  Brooki 
complete,  wlio  is  here  described  simply  be- 
cause tliere  has  not  l)cen  any  very  conven- 
ient place  for  describing  him  before. 

Shortly  after  the  examination  oftlio  pris- 
oners, the  greater  part  of  the  1)and  had 
gone  away  with  the  captain,  and  only  half 
a  dozen  men  were  left  behind  on  guard 
After  Brooke  had  grown  tired  of  his  own 
meditations,  he  wandered  toward  the  win- 
dow and  looked  out.  Here  he  stood  watcli- 
ing  the  men  below,  and  studying  their  faces 
until  he  had  formed  his  own  conclusion  as 
to  the  character  of  each  one. 

"  I'm  trying,"  said  he  to  Talbot,  wlio 
came  near,  "to  find  out  which  one  of  these 
fellows  is  the  most  susceptible  of  bribery 
and  corruption.  They're  all  a  hard  lot ;  the 
trouble  is  that  one  watches  tlie  other  so 
closely  that  I  can't  get  a  fair  chance." 

"I  wonder  where  the  others  have  gone," 
said  Talbot. 

"  Oh,  they've  gone  off  to  search  for  the 
prisoners,  of  course,"  said  Brooke.  "I  don't 
believe  they'll  find  anything  about  them  on 
this  road ;  and  as  for  the  castle,  they'll  be 
unable  to  do  anything  there  unless  tlioy 
take  cannon." 

At  length  the  ojiportunity  arrived  for 
which  Brooke  had  been  waiting.  Tlic 
guards  had  wandered  off  to  a  little  dis- 
tance, and  only  one  man  was  left.  He  was 
just  below  at  the  door  of  the  mill.  Brooke 
was  glad  to  see  that  he  was  the  ugliest  of 
the  lot,  and  the  very  one  whom  he  had 
mentally  decided  upon  as  l)eing  the  most 
corruptibl'i,  Upon  this  man  he  began  to 
try  his  arta. 

"Good-morning,  senor,"  said  he,  insinu- 
atingly. 

The  man  looked  up  in  a  surly  way,  and 
growled  back  something. 

"  Do  you  smoke  ?"  asked  Brooke. 

The  man  grinned. 

Upon  this  Brooke  flung  down  a  small 
piece  of  tooacco,  and  then  began  to  ad- 
dress himself  to  further  conversation.  But 
alas  for  his  hopes !  He  had  just  begun  to 
ask  where  the  others  had  gone  and  where 
the  man  belonged,  when  a  flash  burst  forth, 


A  CASTLE  IN  SPAIN. 


81 


aiul  a  rifle  ball  sung  past  liiiu  through  the 
window  just  above  liis  head.  It  was  one 
of  the  other  ruffians  who  had  done  this, 
who  at  tlie  sarno  time  advanced,  and  with 
;in  oath  ordered  Brooke  to  hold  no  coni- 
munieation  with  the  men. 

"  I  may  stand  at  tlie  window  and  look 
out,  I  suppose  ?"  said  Brooke,  coolly, 

"  We  have  orders  to  allow  no  commu- 
nication witli  the  prisoners  whatever.  If 
you  speak  another  word  you'll  get  a  bullet 
through  you." 

Upon  tills  Brooke  concluded  that  his 
plan  was  a  failure. 

Evening  came  at  length,  and  the  dark- 
ness deepened.  The  l)and  were  still  ab- 
sent. The  men  below  were  perfectly  (piiet, 
;ind  seemed  to  l)e  asleep. 

"I  liavc  a  proposal  to  make,"  said  Tal- 
l)Ot,  "  which  is  worth  sometliing  if  you  will 
only  do  it." 

"  What  is  that  ?" 

"I  have  l)een  thinking  al)out  it  all  day. 
It  is  tliis :  Take  this  priest's  dress  again, 
and  go.  Tiie  priest,  you  know,  is  not  a 
prisoner.  He  stays  voluntarily.  He  has 
leave  to  go  whenever  he  wishes.  Now,  you 
are  the  real  priest,  I  am  not.  I  am  wearing 
your  dress.    Take  it  back,  and  go." 

Brooke  looked  at  her  for  a  few  moments 
in  silence.  It  was  too  dark  for  her  to  see 
ihe  look  that  he  gave  her. 

At  length,  with  his  usual  short  laugh,  he 
said, 

'"Well,  that's  a  refreshing  sort  of  a  pro- 
posal to  make,  too,  after  all  that  has  passed 
between  us  I" 

"  Why  not  ?"  asked  Talbot.  "  What  ob- 
jection is  there  to  it?" 

"  Such  a  question,"  said  Brooke, "  does 
not  deserve  an  answer." 

"  My  plan  is  feasible  enough,  and  quite 
safe  too." 

"Nonsense!  And  what,  pray,  is  to  be- 
come of  you  ?" 

"  Never  mind  that.  Think  of  yourself, 
Brooke,  for  once  in  your  life.  To  stay  here 
is  certain  death  for  you.  This  is  your  very 
last  chance." 

Brooke  was  silent  for  a  little  time. 

"Well,"  said  Talbot,  "  will  you  go  ?'' 

"Oh,  Talbot!  Talbot!"  cried  Brooke; 
'*  how  can  you  have  the  heart  to  make  such 
a  proposal  to  me?  I  have  told  you  that 
tlie  only  thing  that  moves  me  is  the 
thought  of  your  danger.  Death  is  nothing 
to  me ;  I've  faced  it  hundreds  of  times." 

"  It  is  preposterous  to  talk  in  that  way !" 


said  Talbot,  excitcdlj'.  "My  danger?  I 
deny  that  tiiere  is  any  danger  for  me.  As 
an  Englisli  lady,  I  shall  be  safe  in  any 
event.  I'm  sorry  I  ever  took  this  disguise. 
If  you  take  it  back  you  can  go  away  now 
in  safety.  When  they  find  that  you  have 
gone,  they  may  perhaps  threaten  a  little, 
but  that  is  all.  They  will  have  nothing 
against  me,  and  will,  no  doubt,  set  me  free. 
Tills  captain  seems  to  be  a  gentleman,  and 
1 1  should  have  no  fear  of  liim,  I  believe 
that  after  the  tirst  exjilosion  he  would  treat 
me  with  respect,  and  let  me  go." 

"And  so  you  would  really  let  me  go?" 
said  Brooke,  after  a  long  pause,  in  a  very 
low  voice, 

"  Gladly,  gladly,"  said  Talbot, 

"And  stay  here  alone,  in  a  new  charac- 
ter, ignorant  of  the  language,  to  face  the 
return  of  the  mad  and  furious  crowd  ?'' 

"  Yes." 

"  They  would  tear  you  to  pieces,"  cried 
!  Brooke. 

"  Tliey  would  not." 

"  Thny  would." 

"  Then  let  them.  I  can  die,"  said  Tal- 
bot, calmly. 

"And  die  forme?" 

"  Yes,  rather  than  let  you  die  for  me." 

"And  you  think  T  am  capable  of  going 
away  ?"  said  Brooke,  in  a  faltering  voice. 

At  this  Talbot  was  utterly  silent.  Nei- 
ther spoke  a  word  for  a  long  time. 

"  Tall)ot,  lad,"  said  Brooke,  at  leUj^th,  in 
a  gentle  voice. 

"  Well,  Brooke  1" 

"  I  am  glad  that  I  met  with  you." 

"Are  you,  Brooke  ?" 

"  I  should  like  to  live,"  he  continued,  in 
a  far-off  tone,  like  one  soliloquizing,  "  after 
having  met  with  you;  but  if  I  cannot  live, 
I  shall  be  glad  to  think  that  I  have  ever 
known  you." 

Talbot  said  nothing  to  this,  and  there 
was  another  long  silence. 

"By -the- bye/'  said  Brooke,  at  last,  "I 

should  like  to  tell  you  something,  Talbot, 

i  in  case  you  should  ever  happen  to  meet 

with  a  certain  friend  of  mine— you  might 

mention  how  you  met  with  me,  and  so  on." 

"  Yes,"  said  Talbot,  in  a  low  voice. 

"  This  friend,"  said  Brooke,  "  is  a  girl," 
He  paused. 

"  Yes,"  said  Talbot,  in  the  same  voice. 

"It  was  in  Cuba  that  I  met  with  her. 
Her  name  is  Dolores." 

"  Dolores— what  ?" 

"  Dolores  Garcia."  ;■ 


6-2 


A  CASTLE  IN  SPAIN. 


"  I  simll  rcmem})er  the  name." 

"I  waa  correspondent  there, in  just  such 
a  country  as  tliis,  between  two  liostilc  forcefl. 
One  evening  I  came  to  .v  place  wliere  a  gang 
of  insurgent  Cui)ans  wore  engaged  in  the 
pleasing  task  ol'  burning  a  liouse.  As  it 
happened,  I  was  wearing  the  dress  com- 
mon to  the  insurgents,  and  passed  for  one 
of  themselves.  Pressing  into  the  house,  I 
found  two  ladies  —  a  young  girl  and  her 
mothc;  —in  an  agony  of  terror,  surrounded 
by  a  liowling  crowd  of  nifhans.  In  a  few 
words  I  managed  to  assure  them  of  my 
help.  I  succeeded  in  personating  a  Cul)an 
leader  and  in  getting  them  away.  Then  I 
passed  through  the  crowd  outside,  and,  get- 
ting horses,  I  hurried  the  ladies  oil*.  Event- 
ually we  all  reached  Havana  in  safety. 

"  I  learned  that  an  attack  had  been  made 
on  the  plantation,  that  Seuor  Garcia  had 
been  killed,  and  that  as  I  came  u\)  the  gang- 
was  plundering  the  place  and  threatening 
to  destroy  the  women. 

"  Gratitude  luid  the  effect  of  making 
this  young  girl  Dolores  most  devotedly 
attaclieil  to  me.  In  the  course  of  our 
journey  she  evinced  her  affection  in  a 
thousand  ways.  She  was  very  young,  and 
very  beautiful,  and  I  could  not  help  lovir.g 
her,  I  was  also  deeply  moved  by  liev  pas- 
sionate love  for  me,  and  so  I  aslvcd  her  to 
bo  my  wife,  and  slic  consented.  Afterreach- 
ing  Havana,  Spanish  manners  did  not  allow 
of  our  seeing  much  of  one  another.  Short- 
ly afterward  I  had  to  return  to  the  scat  of 
war  to  finish  my  engagement,  and  bade  her 
good-bye  for  two  or  three  months.  I  ex- 
pected at  the  end  of  that  time  to  return  to 
Havana  and  marry  lier. 

"  Well,  I  went  away  and  heard  nothing 
more  from  her.  At  the  end  of  that  time  I 
returned,  when,  to  my  amazement,  I  learn- 
ed that  she  had  gone  to  Spain,  and  found 
a  letter  from  her  which  gave  me  the  whole 
reason  for  her  departure.  I  had  told  her 
before  that  I  myself  was  going  to  Spain  in 
the  course  of  another  year,  so  she  expressed 
a  hope  ot  seeing  me  there.  The  place  to 
which  she  was  going  was  Pampeluna.  I've 
already  tried  to  find  her  there,  but  in  vain. 
The  fact  is,  things  have  been  so  disturl)ed 
about  here  that  peojde  have  changed  their 
abodes,  and  can  no  longer  be  traced ;  and 
so  I  have  never  come  upon  the  track  of 
Dolores.  And  I  mention  this  to  you,  Tal- 
bot, so  that  if  you  should  ever,  by  any 
chance,  happen  to  meet  her,  you  may  tell 
lier  that  you  sa\.  ;ue,  and  that  I  had  been 


hunting  after  her  all  through  Spain.  I  dare 
say  it  will  soothe  her,  for  she  loved  me  most 
jiassionately,  and  must  often  have  womlcr- 
ed  why  I  never  came  for  her.  In  fiict,  she 
was  so  gentle,  so  delicate,  so  sensitive,  and  yet 
so  intense  in  her  feelings,  that  I  have  often 
feared  that  the  idea  of  my  being  fulse  might 
have  been  too  much  for  her  loving  heart, 
and  may  Iiave  cut  fhort  hcjr  young  life." 

After  the  conclusion  of  this  story  Talbot 
asked  many  f[uestion3  about  Dolores,  and 
tlie  conversation  gradually  changed,  until 
at  length  it  came  round  to  the  cross-ipies- 
tioning  of  Lopez  wdiich  Talbot  had  under- 
gone. 

"  I  have  never  told  you,"  said  she, "  about 
my  own  errand  here  in  this  country ;  and  as 
this  nuiy  be  our  last  conversation,  I  should 
like  very  nmch  to  tell  you  all." 

Thus  this  ccmfidence  of  Brooke's  led  to 
a  similar  act  on  the  part  of  Talbot,  who 
now  related  to  liim  her  own  history.  As 
this  has  been  already  set  forth  from  the 
lips  of  Harry  Rivers,  it  need  not  be  repeat- 
ed here.  Brooke  listened  to  it  in  silence. 
At  the  close  he  merely  remarked  : 

"  Well,  Talbot,  we've  now  made  our  final 
confessions.  This  is  our  last  interview. 
And  I  feel  sad,  not,  my  lad,  at  tlie  thoug'.it 
of  death,  I)ut  at  the  thought  of  leaving  you 
among  these  villains.  My  only  thougiit  is, 
what  will  become  of  you." 

"  It's  strange,"  said  Talbot,  in  a  musing 
tone,  "  very  strange.  All  this  that  I  have 
been  telling  you  seems  now  removed  back 
away  to  a  far,  far  distant  past.  It  is  as 
though  it  all  hapi)ened  in  a  previous  state 
of  existence." 

'•I  dare  say,"  said  Brooke.  "Oh  yes; 
you  see  you've  been  having  a  precious  hard 
time  of  it." 

"  Yes,"  mused  Talbot.  "  Fear,  hope,  sus- 
pense, shame,  grief,  despair ;  then  fear,  sus- 
pense, and  despair ;  then  hope  and  joy,  fol- 
lowed again  by  despair.  So  it  has  been, 
and  all  in  a  few  days.  Brooke,  I  tell  you 
I  am  another  person  altogether  from  tli;it 
girl  who  left  her  home  so  short  a  time  ago. 
Jliss  Talbot— where  is  she  ?  I  am  the  lad 
Talbot— comrade  of  a  brave  man— fighting 
with  him  for  my  life,  and  now  along  with 
him  resting  in  the  Valley  of  the  Shadow  of 
Death." 

"  Bosh !"  said  Brooke,  in  .i  husky,  chok- 
ing voice.  He  muttered  a  few  unintelligi- 
ble words,  and  then  ceased. 

"Death  is  near,  Brooke  —  very  near;  I 
feel  it." 


A  CASTLE  IN  SPAIN. 


83 


"Tall)()t,"  Kaid  Brooke,  witli  something 
like  n  groun,  "  talk  ot'soiactliiug  olsu," 

"  It's  iieiir  to  you." 

"Well,  wliatifltis?" 

"  And  it's  near  to  me." 

"  It's  not ;  I  tell  you  it's  not,"  cried  Brooke, 
cx.'^itedly. 

"  It  was  the  old  f'asliion  of  chivalry,  up- 
held by  all  the  Talbots,  that  the  page  or  the 
s(iuirc  should  never  survive  the  chief.  I'm  a 
Talbot.     Do  you  understand  me,  Brooke  'f 

"  If  they  did  so,"  cried  Brooke,  in  strong- 
er excitement,  "  they  were  a  pack  of  cursed 

fools. 

" '  He  tlint  flijlilH  nnd  runs  awny 
JI;iy  live  to  light  iiiiolhur  day.' 

That's  my  motto." 

"Uo  you  think  I'll  survive  you?"  asked 
Tall)ot,  taking  no  notice  of  Brooke's  words. 

Brooke  gave  a  wild  laugh. 

"  You'll  have  to,  my  boy  —  you'll  have 
to." 

"  I'm  your  page,  your  vassal,"  said  she. 
"I'm  a  Talbot.  We've  exchanged  arms. 
I've  thing  away  the  girl  life.  I'm  a  boy — 
the  lad  Talbot.  We're  brothers  in  arms, 
for  good  or  evil,  Brooke." 

Brooke  began  to  whistle,  and  then  mur- 
mured some  words  like  these : 

"Noil  cRo  iiGrflclum 
DIxl  encrnmenttim :  Ibiinus,  ibir.iu?, 
Utciinque  prtcccdcH,  snprcmur 
Carpoie  iter  comitcs  pnrati.' 

"  What  do  you  say  ?"  asked  T'      ■^\ 

"Oh,  nothing,"  said  Brooke-  )g  Lat- 
in—some  rubbish  from  Horace.  Allow  me, 
however,  to  remark,  that  all  this  talk  about 
death  seems  to  me  to  l)e  cursed  bad  taste." 

After  this  he  began  to  whistle  a  tune. 

Suddenly  he  held  up  his  liand  so  as  to 
display  the  ring. 

"  Who  gave  you  tliis  ?"  he  asked,  care- 
lessly. 

"  >Ir.  Rivers,"  said  Talbot,  simplj'.  "  It 
was  our  engagement  ring." 

Brooke  gave  his  usual  short  laugh,  and 
subsided  into  silence. 


CHAPTER  XXIV. 

IN  wnicii  imooKK  and  talhot  staxd  face  to 

FACE   WITH    DEATH. 

This  was  to  be  to  Brooke  his  last  day  in 
life.  The  thought  of  this  was  ever  present 
to  both  of  them.  The  band  would  prob- 
ably return  during  the  night,  and  in  the 
morning  the  last  scene  would  be  enacted. 


In  the  few  days  in  which  these  two  had 
known  each  other  they  had  been  compelled 
to  undergo  great  variations  of  feeling,  and 
had  come  to  learn  each  other's  inmost  nat- 
ure more  thoroughly  and  intimately  by  far 
than  could  have  occurred  after  years  of  or- 
dinary social  intercourse.  Together  they 
had  faced  danger  and  death  ;  together  they 
had  endured  hope  and  fear,  hunger  nnd 
weariness,  sorrow  and  despair.  The  feel- 
ings of  each  had  been  stirred  to  the  utter- 
most (lei)th.  Htrong  natures  were  they, 
both  of  them ;  and  they  both  were  capable 
of  self-control,  and  they  each  knew  how 
to  wear  an  aspect  of  calmness  while  all  the 
time  the  soul  within  was  in  a  tumult  of  ter- 
ror or  distress.  This  night  was  to  be  the 
last  on  earth  to  one  of  them,  perhaps  to 
both.  So  they  said  but  little.  They  could 
but  sit  in  silence,  and  think,  and  feel,  and 
sutler. 

At  midnight  there  was  a  wild  clamor 
outside.  The  band  had  returned.  The 
prisoners  went  to  the  window,  and  there, 
standing  side  by  side,  they  looked  out. 
Brooke  thought  that  his  hour  might  even 
now  be  at  hand,  and  the  same  fear  occurred 
to  Tali)ot.  Neither  spoke.  So  for  a  long 
time  they  stood  watching,  listening,  until 
at  last  the  sounds  died  away,  all  movement 
ceased,  and  all  was  still.  The  men  had 
gone  to  rest,  and  they  now  knew  that  there 
would  be  a  respite  until  morning.  They 
stood  looking  out  into  the  niglit.  If  a 
thought  of  tlight  had  ever  occurred  to 
either  of  them,  they  could  now  sec  that  such 
a  thing  was  impossible.  For  they  were  en- 
vironed with  guards ;  and  in  the  room  be- 
low and  on  the  grass  outside  the  followers 
of  Lopez  lay  between  them  and  liberty. 

"  Brooke,"  said  Talbot, "  if  you  were  now 
alone  I  know  very  well  what  you  would  do." 

"  What  ?" 

"  You  would  draw  your  revolver,  jump 
down,  burst  through  the  midst  of  these 
men,  and  escape.     Why  not  do  so  now  ?" 

Brooke  gave  a  short  laugh. 

"  Do  ?  Leave  me  1  Fly !  Tliey  cannot 
blame  me  if  you  fight  your  way  through 
them.  Better  to  die  fighting  than  be  shot 
down  helplessly." 

"If  I  did  so,  they'd  take  out  their  ven- 
geance on  you." 

"  They  would  not." 

"  They  would." 

"  Then  you  stay  for  me !" 

"Yes." 

Talbot  drew  a  long  breath. 


84 


A  CASTLE  IN  SPAIN. 


"  You  are  bent  on  dying,  Brooke,  not  to 
buvc  lue,  Ijut  merely  to  prevent  llictn  from 
being  too  liiird  to  me." 

"Tliey  will  let  you  go,"  Biiid  Brooke. 
"They  Avill  be  satisfied— when  I  am  gone." 

Talbot  seized  liis  Imnds  in  a  convulsive 
grasp. 

"  Oh,  Brooke !"  she  groaned.  "  Can  noth- 
ing move  you  ?  What  is  life  worth  to  me  at 
sueh  a  cost  ?  Oh,  Brooke,  fly  !  Leave  me. 
Fight  your  way  out.     I  will  follow  you." 

"  You  cannot.  If  you  tried,  you  would 
be  sure  to  bo  captured.  I  might  escape  as 
you  say,  but  you  could  not." 

"  Oh,  Brooke,  try— fly  !  Oh,  I  could  kill 
n)yself  rather  tiuin  endure  this  any  longer." 

"  Talbot !"  said  Brooke,  suddenly  shak- 
ing her  off. 

"  What,  Brooke  ?" 

"  You're  a  fool !" 

"  Yes,  Brooke." 

"  You're  a  fool !"  lie  repeated,  in  a  voice 
that  sounded  like  a  gasp.  "  Why  will  you 
persist  in  talking  in  this  way,  and  bliglit 
and  sliattcr  all  my  strcngtli  of  soul  ?  It's 
too  late,  I  tell  you.  I  will  not.  I  will  not 
do  anything  tiiat  can  cxjjose  you  to  fresh 
danger;  your  peril  is  great  enough  now, 
but  there  is  a  bare  chance  for  you  if  noth- 
ing happens.  When  they  have  got  one  life 
they  may  feel  inclined  to  spare  the  other." 

"  Never !"  said  Talbot.  "  They  shall  not. 
I  will  not  have  it." 

"  You  must !''  said  Brooke,  fiercely. 

"  I  tell  you  I  will  not !"  cried  Talbot,  iu  a 
passionate  voice. 

"D— n  youl"  roared  Brooke.  "I  tell 
you  you  must,  and  you  shall !" 

At  this  there  was  a  noise  below.  Some 
of  the  guard  had  awakened.  Brooke  drew 
a  long  breath,  and  retreated  from  the  win- 
dow into  the  darkness.  Talbot  went  after 
him. 

"Talbot,"'  said  Brooke,  in  a  voice  that 
was  strangely  sweet  yet  unutterably  sad — 
'•  Talbot,  do  you  want  to  break  my  heart  ?" 

"  Brooke,"  said  Talbot,  in  a  low,  thrilling 
tone.  "  Is  it  your  heart  only,  do  you  tlunk, 
that  is  now  almost  breaking  ?" 

After  this  there  was  a  deep  silence,  bro- 
ken only  by  their  own  quick  breathing. 
Brooke  felt  a  hand  in  his.  He  caught  it  in 
a  convulsive  grasp ;  and  the  two  hands 
clung  to  each  other,  and  throbbed  with  the 
vehement  pulsations  of  two  hearts  that  now 
beat  with  intenscst  feeling. 

"  Let  me  go,"  wailed  Brooke,  at  last, 
snatching  his  liand  away.    He  gasped  for 


breatl).  He  retreated  further  into  the  dark- 
ness. Tall)ot  stood  motionless  and  trcm- 
l)ling.  There  was  silence  again  for  a  lon^' 
time.    It  was  at  last  broken  by  Brooke. 

"  Come,  Talbot,"  ho  said,  with  feverish 
rapidity  and  a  wretched  assumption  ol' 
carelessness.  "  Let's  engage  in  conversa- 
tion. What  shall  we  talk  aljout?  The 
weather?  Or  the  crops?  Or  shall  we 
talk  |)olitics?  By-the-l)ye,  can't  you  sinj,' 
something?  I  tell  you  what — it  isn't  fair. 
You  make  me  do  all  the  singing.  But  1 
don't  mind.  You're  a  good  listener,  at  any 
rate.     If  you  like  I'll  sing  a  hymn." 

And  he  began,  singing  through  his  no.se: 

"Oh,  n  mniilcn  kIiu  livcil  in  tlie  soiUl:  coiiiitrie, 
Aiul  II  werry  Hik;  maid,  my  boy,  \\a*  hIio, 
For  liLT  Imir  Wiin  ns  led  as  red  can  bir; 
So  off  wc  yo  to  Mnryiiianlico. 

And  n  jolly  yoiniR  cove  foil  in  love  with  she. 
fSayH  ill',  'My  lann,  «ili  you  marry  mcf 
One  loot  lip  and  t'other  foot  down, 
And  away  we  travel  to  London  town." 

Again  there  was  a  sound  below.  Brooke'.s 
song  had  roused  the  guard. 

Tall)Ot  gave  a  wild  start. 

"They're  coming  I"'  she  gasped,  in  a  tone 
of  liorror.  "They're  coming— at  last. 
They  won't  wait !" 

"  Pooh !"  said  Brooke,  whose  voice  by 
this  time  had  regained  its  old  careless  ring; 
and  lie  whined  on : 

"fats  don't  come  nt  half-past  eight 
Tap-tap-tapping  at  the  garding  gate !' 

Talbot  gave  a  sigh  that  sounded  like  a 
groan.  The  sounds  below  subsided,  and 
all  was  still  once  more. 

So  the  night  i)assed. 

Horning  came. 

A  man  brought  up  bread  and  wine ; 
but  now  there  was  no  thought  of  eating, 
even  for  the  sake  of  saving  strength.  Nei- 
ther one  spoke,  nor  did  either  venture  to 
look  at  the  other. 

At  length  tliey  were  summoned  outside. 
Lopez  was  there,  with  half  a  dozen  men 
around  him.  Farther  away  were  the  rest 
of  the  men,  watching  the  scene.  On  the 
right  were  a  dozen  men  with  rifles.  Brooke 
was  as  cool  as  usual.  Talbot  was  calm,  but 
deathly  pale. 

"  Sefior  Brooke,"  said  Lopez,  "  I  am  a 
man  of  but  few  words,  and  few  need  now 
be  said.  I  have  given  you  a  long  respite- 
longer  than  I  said.  What  is  your  deci- 
sion ?  Will  you  go  with  us  and  show  us 
where  the  Carlists  took  the  English  la- 
dies ?" 


A  CASTLE  IN   81'AIN. 


8b 


'•  Sc'fior  Captain,"  siiid  Brooke,  calmly, 
•  1  am  (luite  uiuiblo  to  give  you  any  inl'or- 
iniitiou  about  the  ladica.  I  don't  see  wiiat 
1  ('an  do." 

"  Lead  us  to  the  place,"  said  Lopez. 

Hrooke  nliook  his  head. 

'•  I  eun't  say  any  more,"  said  he, 

*•  Very  well,"  said  Lopez,  (piietly.  "  Tiien 
you  must  die." 

"  You  can  certainly  kill  mc,  Sefior  Cap- 
tain, but  what  good  will  that  do  ?" 

••  (^h,  no  particular  good,"  said  Lopez, 
•■  but  the  law  is  that  spies  shall  be  shot  at 
once,  and  I  merely  gave  you  ii  chance. 
You're  a  bold  fellow,  and  I  should  like  to 
spare  you — that's  all." 

•■Thanks,  Sefior  Captain,  And  may  I 
make  one  request  i'' 

'•  Name  it,  seuor." 

"This  young  priest  is  free, is  he  not?" 

"  Certainly." 

"  You  will  suffer  hiui  to  go  without  mol- 
estation." 

'•  Certainly."' 

"  lie  is  young,  and  a  stranger  in  the 
country,  lie  doesn't  know  a  word  of  the 
language,  and  is  in  despair  about — about 
me.  Would  it  bo  possible  for  him  to  pro- 
cure a  guide  for  part  of  the  way,  at  least 
to  Yittoria,  or  some  nearer  railway  station  f 

"I  will  furnish  him  with  one,"  said  Lo- 
pez, "  all  the  way." 

"  Tiiank  you,  sefior,"  said  Brooke. 

"  Sefior,"  said  Lopez,  "  it  pains  mc  deep- 
ly to  see  you  rush  on  to  destruction." 

''Sefior  Cai)tain,"said  Brooke,  "you  are 
a  man  of  honor  and  generosity.  I  wish  I 
could  do  what  you  ask." 

Lopez  shrugged  his  shoulders.  Then  he 
sighed.  Then  he  took  a  final  look  at 
Brooke.  After  this  he  motioned  to  two 
of  his  men.  These  two  came  forward  and 
led  Brooke  to  a  place  opposite  the  file  of 
armed  men.  One  of  the  men  offered  to 
bind  his  eyes,  but  Brooke  motioned  him 
away. 

"  I  don't  want  it,"  said  lie. 

As  he  said  this,  Talbot  came  up  and 
stood  by  his  side.  Lopez  walked  down 
toward  the  file  of  men  autl  stood  at  a 
point  on  one  side,  half-way  between  the 
condemned  and  the  soldiers. 

"  Talbot,"'  said  Brooke,  in  a  low  voice, 
"  go  away." 

"  Brooke,"  said  Talbot,  "  will  you  not 
live?" 

"  What !  in  dishonor  ?" 

"  Oh,  my  God  1"  groaned  Talbot.    "  What 


shall  I  do?     lie  will  die— and  I've  killed 
him!" 

"Talbot,"  said  Brooke,  in  a  husky  and 
unsteady  voice,  "go  away.  You'll  make 
me  die  two  deaths.  You  arc  safe.  Lopez 
has  promised  to  send  a  guide  with  you  to 
Yittoria." 

"A  guide?"  said  Talbot,  in  a  strange 
voice. 

"Think  of  mc— sometimes,"  stammered 
Brooke. 

Talbot  turned  and  looked  at  him. 
Brooke  saw  the  look  and  all  that  was  con- 
veyed in  it,  aud  then  obstinately  shut  his 
eyes. 

Lopez  now  turned  to  sec  if  the  two 
friends  had  said  their  last  .say.  He  saw  a 
singular  sight.  Tlie  "  priest'"  was  standing 
directly  in  front  of  Brooke  and  facing  the 
filo  of  soldiers.  At  that  moment  also 
Broolce  oi)ened  his  eyes  again  and  saw 
Tall)ot  in  front  of  him. 

lie  stepped  forward  and  seized  her  arm, 

"  Oh,  Talbot !  oh,  Taliiot !"  he  groaned. 
"This  is  worse  than  dealh.  Why  will  you 
torment  me  ?" 

Talbot  shook  him  off.  Brooke  tiirew  a 
despairing  look  at  the  captain,  and  shrank 
back.  Talbot  folded  her  arms  and  stood 
in  front  of  him. 

Had  she  only  been  able  to  speak  Span- 
ish she  would  hnvu  told  them  all  —  liow 
this  man  had  '.un  into  danger  on  her  ac- 
count, how  he  was  now  dying  through 
her,  how  she  was  resolved  to  die  cither  for 
him  or  with  him.  She  would  have  told 
them  all  that,  but  that  would  not  have  re- 
vealed the  half  of  all  the  ehxjuent  story 
which  stood  unfolded  in  her  attitude  and 
in  her  face. 

She  stood  erect,  her  arms  folded  on  lier 
breast,  facing  thus  the  file  of  soldiers.  Her 
look,  however,  was  as  though  she  saw  them 
not.  Her  eyes  were  turned  toward  them, 
yet  their  gaze  was  fixed  on  vacancy.  She 
thus  showed  her  face — looking  thus  with 
steadfast  eyes — a  calm  face,  serene,  tranquil, 
white  as  marble,  and  as  motionless.  All 
that  Brooke  had  seen  there  which  had  made 
him  think  of  the  Angel  Gabriel,  and  all 
that  Lopez  had  seen  there  which  made 
him  think  of  the  Apostle  John,  Avas  now 
clearly  manifest  in  that  noble  and  expres- 
sive countenance.  It  was  the  face  of  a  pure, 
a  lofty,  an  exalted  nature,  full  of  profound- 
est  feeling  and  matchless  self-control — the 
face  of  one  who  was  resolved  to  die,  the 
face  of  a  martyr,  the  face  of  one  who  was 


86 


A  CASTLi:  IN  SPAIN. 


staiuling  in  full  view  of  Death,  who  wns  \ 
waiting  for  his  approach,  and  was  untlis- 
miiyed. 

Ah  for  Ikookc,  he  at  last  expericncctl  all 
tiiat  ho  liad  dreaded,  llo  was  utterly  over- 
come. White,  ghaHtly,  trcnililin^'  fmni  head 
to  foot,  hf  starcil  at'lallml  witli  sonietliing 
like  horror  in  his  faee,  yet  he  could  not 
move.  He  stood  .sluuldering,  and  speech- 
less. 

At  .such  an  astonishing  and  unexpected 
spectacle  the  very  soldiers  gazeil  in  awe. 
Hardened  as  they  were,  there  was  some- 
thing in  Talliot's  determined  scH'sarritiec, 
and  in  JJrooke's  nianilest  anguish  of  soul, 
which  overcame  them  all,  and  hushed  them 
all  alike  into  wonder  and  silence.  All  eyes 
were  ri.\ed  on  the  two  who  thus  .stood  be- 
fore the  lilc  of  soldiers.  At  length  there 
arose  nuirnnirs  —  strange  murmurs  indeed 
to  come  from  such  men,  for  they  indicated 
pity  and  compassion. 

Upon  Lopez  the  effect  of  nil  this  was 
overwhelming.  He  liad  seen  it  from  the 
beginning.  He  saw  the  face  of  Talbot,  the 
agony  of  Brooke.  At  lirst  there  was  only 
wonder  in  his  looks,  then  came  profound 
agitation.  His  sword  droi)ped  from  his 
hand.  He  turned  away.  Now,  as  he  thus 
turned  away,  had  he  encountered  fierce, 
cruel,  blood-thirsty  faces,  ho  might  have 
come  back  to  his  first  resolve,  and  recover- 
ed from  the  emotion  which  was  unman- 
ning him;  but  the  faces  of  his  men  were 
full  of  pity  and  of  wonder.  His  fierce  fol- 
lowers Mere  themselves  overcome, and  thus 
the  agitation  of  Lopez  was  lieightcned. 

"I  am  a  soldier,"  he  cried;  "I  am  not  a 
bandit,  I  am  not  a  cut-throat.  It's  all  very 
well  for  us  to  kill  our  enemies  in  battle, 
but,  my  Inds,  to  kill  people  in  this  way  is 
butchery,  and  if  they  Avant  butchers  they'll 
have  to  get  others,  I  must  talk  to  these 
men  again,  especially  to  this  priest," 

With  these  words  Captain  Lopez  dis- 
missed his  men  and  then  turned  to  Brooke. 
"  Seiior,"  said  he,  "  I  have  some  more 
questions  to  ask.  I  will  therefore  post- 
pone 'proceedings  until  after  further  exam- 
ination." 

Talljot  understood  the  actions  of  Lopez, 
and  comprehended  the  meaning  of  his 
words.  There  was  an  immense  revulsion 
of  feeling  within  her — from  that  prepara- 
tion for  death  to  this  restoration  to  life; 
yet  so  perfect  was  her  self-control  that  she 
lost  not  one  whit  of  her  caution,  and  vigi- 
lance, and  outward  calm.    She  did  not  trust 


herself  to  look  at  Brooke.  She  menly 
turned  awuy  and  stooil  with  her  ey(  s  tl.xeil 
on  tli(!  grouml.  Brooke  stood  watchim,' 
her  with  a  haggard  stare.  lU  did  not  look 
at  Lopez;  but  as  he  caught  his  worils  in 
muttered  something  in  reply  which  was  un 
intelligible  to  Loi)ez,  and  (piite  incoherent 
in  itself 

The  prisoners  were  now  conducted  luu  k 
again  to  their  place  of  conlinemcnt.  Here 
at  last,  removed  from  all  strange  eyes,  tlic 
fortitude  of  Tallwt,  so  long  sustained,  gave 
way  utterly.  Under  the  pressure  of  so  tre- 
mendous a  reaction  herwounmly  nature  re- 
asserted itself.  She  fell  prostrate  upon  the 
floor,  and  lay  there,  overwhelmed  by  n  ve- 
henu'nt  passion  of  tears.  As  for  Brooke,  he 
dared  not  trust  himself  to  soothe  her;  lie 
dared  not  even  so  much  as  look  at  her,  but 
seated  himself  as  far  away  as  possible,  ami 
buried  his  face  in  his  hands. 


CHAPTEIl  XXV. 

l.V    WniCU    IIUOOKK    SIN(iS   AND    TALKS    IX    A    LKIHT 
AM)  ''UIFLINCI   MANSKU. 

BiiooKE  and  Talbot  had  thus  emerged 
from  the  Valley  of  the  Shadow  of  Heatli, 
but  that  shadow  still  rested  upon  tlien\. 
Their  sudden  deliverance  had  left  them 
bothalike  overwhelmed;  and  as  they  stood 
apart,  not  speaking,  not  even  looking  at 
one  another,  there  was  a  struggle  in  tlie 
mind  of  each  which  made  it  hard  indeed 
for  them  to  regain  any  kind  of  selt-contrnl. 
The  vision  of  death  which  had  been  l)efore 
them  had  disclosed  to  each  the  inmost  soul 
of  the  other,  and  had  led  to  revelations  of 
feeling  that  might  not  have  been  made  un- 
der any  other  circumstances.  Tlicy  had 
both  alike  expected  death ;  they  had  said 
to  one  another  their  last  and  truest  words; 
they  had  given  expression  to  their  most  se- 
cret and  sacred  confidences ;  they  had  bid- 
den their  most  solemn  and  most  tender  fare- 
wells ;  but  the  moment  which  had  threat- 
ened to  be  the  last  of  life,  had  passed  away 
leaving  them  still  in  the  land  of  the  living- 
leaving  them  together  as  before,  bound  by 
the  new  and  imperishable  tie  of  a  commi'ii 
memory,  for  neither  could  forget  all  that 
had  been  said,  and  felt,  and  done  by  tlir 
other. 

After  the  events  of  the  morning,  Lopez 
had  gone  away  with  the  greater  part  of  his 
followers,  leaving  behind  a  guard  of  about 
half  a  dozen,  as  before.    The  noise  of  these 


A  CA8TLK  IN  Sl'AIN. 


87 


iiiovcnicntM  liiul  uroUHod  tlu!  two  priHon- 
crH,  .m<l  Micy  Imd  f^'oiii)  to  the  window  to 
look  out,  scckiiiLC  rutlwr  to  distriict  tlicir 
llii)ni,dilH  lliim  to  xtitisfy  iiiiytliiii},'  like  curi- 
osity. Kroiii  tliis  wliitiow  tlioy  liiul  wiitcli- 
cij  tiicHi'  |)ro('('cdiiii^H  in  Hiicncc,  Htiindiiif^ 
(•lose  li('sid('  cacii  olInT,  with  their  I'ycH  tnrn- 
cil  to  tlic  Hci'iic  outHidu,  but  with  thou^ditn 
wniiiiciinLC  cIscnyhLTc.  At  h'Uj^dh  all  hiid 
;,'()iic  except  the  ^nianl,  luid  the  I  M,  of  tlie 
liand  had  itcen  Hwallowcd  up  hy  tho  intcr- 
vcninij  hillH.  Then;  wan  nothiiif,'  nioro  to 
1)1'  Hcen  (>MlHid(!  or  to  Hcrvc  aH  a  pretence 
I'cir  kcepini^  tlieir  IooRh  from  l'olh)wing  tlieir 
tliiiiii;hts. 

'I'hclr  cycH  met.  It  was  iv  deep  and  an 
('l()(|nent  Inok,  (nil  of  umittered  ineanin/^, 
wiiii'li  cacii  turned  upon  the  other;  and 
ciicli  seemed  to  rcail  in  thi^  eycH  of  the  oth- 
er all  the  Hccrets  of  the  heart;  and  Htand- 
ini,'  thus  they  looked  into  one  unotiier's 
hi'iirts. 

Jt  was  |{rook(^  who  Hp(»k(?  tlr.st. 

"I  wonder,"  Hai<l  lie,  in  a  low,  f^entle 
voice—"  I  wonder,  Talliot,  if  you  hud  that 
lool;  when  you  placed  yonrHclf  in  front  of 
nil'  ami  faced  their  levelled  rilh.'H.  If  so, 
Tall)ot,  hid,  I  don't  wonder  that  tho  sol- 
ilicrs  paused;  for  they  say  that  tlie  calm 
eye  of  man  ciui  tame  tlie  wild  beast  or  the 
I'luy  of  tho  maniac ;  and  so  your  eyes  tamed 
llic  nmdnesH  of  these  fierce  rullians.  Was 
\i)ur  look  then,  Talljot,  as  calm  and  as  firm 
us  it,  is  now  V 

"It  was  (ixed,"  said  Talbot,  in  a  f^cntlc 
voice,  "unalterably.  Hut  it  was  not  their 
ritli's  that  I  saw ;  it  seemed  then  as  though 
I  saw  the  other  world." 

A  short  silence  followed,  and  then  Brooke 
spoke  ajj;ain,  in  a  voice  which  was  very 
weak  and  tremulous. 

"And  yon,  Talbot,  stood  before  their  bul- 
lets, olVerinj,'  your  life  for  mine!" 

'I'lie  accents  of  his  voice  seemed  to  (juiv- 
li'  witli  suppressed  passion  and  intinite  ten- 
ili'Viiesa. 

"It  was  only  a  fair  exchanfije,"  said  Tal- 
liot, slowly;  and  her  voice  thrilled,  as  she 
spoke,  tlironu;ii  the  heart  of  Brooke  as  he 
wiiit  over  to  lier  to  listen ;  "  for  you  were 
,!,'ivin>r  up  your  own  life  for  me." 

There  was  silence  now  for  some  time,  dur- 
iii!,'  which  their  eyes  were  fastened  upon 
one  another.  At  length  Brooke  drew  a 
li'iig  breath  and  turned  away.  Then  he 
I'cwn  abruptly  to  sing  one  of  his  droll 
^ojigs.  His  voice  was  faint  at  first,  but 
^'lew  stronger  as  he  went  on : 


"  Illlly  'I'aylor  wmh  n  t'ay  yniiiii;  riivor, 
Kill!  iiriiilrlli  and  fall  nf  i^lcis ; 
Anil  Ills  nilnit  Ik-  iIIiI  ilisrDVdr 
To  11  iniilil  iif  low  ilritrcc. 

KItr  rilliili>|.|i>l-li>l-liit.|iilo, 
Kllorollulul-lol-lol-lol-liiy.' 

"  Viiu  see,"  continued  he,  "my  way  is  to 
sing  while  I  can.  '1  iiere  are  loo  many  times 
in  life  when  you  (Min't  sing  'Billy  Taylor.' 
Then  you  may  .etire  to  your  corner,  and 
wear  sackcloth  and  ashes.  Such  a  time  is 
coming,  Talbot,  lad,  when  tin;  strain  of  I5il- 
ly  Taylor'  shall  be  heard  no  more.  But 
so  long  as  I  can  I'll  sing: 

"'ItiitllilH  inalili'ii  hail  a  pariiait, 
Who  wan  very  nlrni  lo  hIh'. 
"  Kly,  oil,  My,  my  ili:iuont  diiiici', 
From  lliii  wllcH  of  yimr  llillci''." 
Ititr  f.illii|.,l-|(,l-l(,l-l(,l-lli|i>, 
Kill!  rolliil.il-liil-lol-liil-lay.'" 

During  this  little  diversion  of  Brooke's 
Talbot  said  nothing.  It  was,  as  he  said,  his 
way,  and  Talliot  had  grown  accustomed  to 
it.  A  long  silence  lollowed,  after  which 
Brooke  once  more  addressed  lier. 

"Talbot,"  said  lie,  "we  have  been  ac- 
(piaiiit ('( 1  only  two  or  three  days,  iiiid  we  have 
told  one  another  all  that  is  in  (jur  hearts. 
So  it  seems  as  if  we  had  been  friends  for  a 
long  tim(\  Yi's,  Talbnt ;  if  I  were  to  coun* 
over  all  the  friends  of  all  my  life,  F  could  not 
find  (me  like  you — no,  not  one.  And  now, 
if  we  both  escape  and  you  go  back  to  your 
people,  how  strange  it  will  be  never  to 
meet  again." 

"  Never  to  meet  again !"  rc))eated  Talbot ; 
and  an  expression  as  of  sharp  and  sudden 
pain  Hashed  over  her  face.  "  You  do  not 
mean  to  say  that  you  will  never  come  to 
me  ?" 

"  Cohie  to  you  !"  repeated  Brooke,  and 
ho  gave  that  short  laugh  of  his.  "  Oii  yes 
— I'll  come,  of  course,  and  I'll  leave  my 
card;  and  perhaps  you'll  be  'not  at  home,' 
or  perhaps  I'll  be  asked  to  call  again,  or 
perhaps — " 

Talbot  smiled,  and  Brooke,  catching  her 
eye,  smiled  also,  and  stopped  abruptly. 

Then  followed  another  silence,  which, 
however,  unlike  most  of  such  periods,  was 
not  at  all  embarrassing. 

"  Have  you  noticed,"  said  Talbot,  at 
length,  "that  they  liave  left  the  same  small 
guard  which  they  left  before?'' 

"Oh  yes;  but  what  o*" that?" 

"  Don't  you  tliink  that  now,  after  what 
has  happened,  they  might  be  far  less  strict, 
and  be  open  to  a  moderate  bribe?'' 

"  Bribe  ?    And  why  ?"  nsked  Brooke. 


88 


A  CASTLE  IN  SPAIN. 


"  Why  ?  wliy  ?"  repeated  Talbot,  in  sur- 
prise. "  Why,  to  escape — to  get  our  free- 
dom." 

"But  suppose  I  don't  want  my  free- 
dom ?"  said  Urooke. 

"Not  want  it?  Wiiat  do  you  mean? 
Do  you  suppose  tliat  I  may  not  ))e  strong 
enough  for  the  journey?  Don't  be  afraid 
of  that.  I  feel  strong  enough  now  for 
any  effort.  I'll  ily  with  you  —  anywiiere, 
Brooke." 

"Fly?"  .said  Brooke;  "fly?  Wiiat, 
and  take  you  to  your  friends  ?  And  then 
what?  Whj',  then  —  a  long  good-bye! 
Talbot,  I'm  too  infernally  selfish.  I'll  tell 
you  a  secret.  Now  that  the  worst  is  over — 
now  that  there  doesn't  seem  to  be  any  real 
danger — I'll  confess  that  I  enjoy  this.  I 
(h)n't  want  it  to  end.  I  feel  not  only  like 
singing,  but  like  dancing.  I  want  to  be 
always  living  in  a  tower,  or  an  old  wind- 
mill, or  anywhere — so  long  as  I  can  look 
up  and  see  you,  I  don't  want  anything 
more  in  the  world.  And  when  I  look  up 
and  see  Talbot  no  more  —  why,  then  I'll 
stop  singing.  For  what  will  life  be  wortli 
tiieu,  when  all  its  sunlight,  and  bloom,  and 
sAvectness,  and  joy  arc  over,  and  when  tiicy 
arc  all  i)ast  and  gone  forever?  Life!  why, 
Talbot,  lad,  I  never  began  to  know  what 
life  cou^d  be  till  I  saw  you;  and  do  you 
ask  me  now  to  put  an  end  to  our  friend- 
ship ?'' 

This  was  what  Brooke  said,  and  then  he 
turned  off  into  a  song: 

"Tlion  tins  maiden  wiped  heroye'iids 
With  licr  pockct-lmiidkeichcc ; 
Tlioiiu'li  I  glow  a  ynllcr  spinster 
I  will  sliik  to  my  Billco  1 

Kite  foIlnloI-lol-lol-loMido, 
Kite  follalol-lol-lol-lol-Iiiy." 

After  this  there  followed  another  pro- 
longed silence.  Talbot  was  now  the  fir.st 
to  speak. 

"Brooke,"  said  she,  in  her  low,  soft, 
tremulous  voice,  which  had  died  down  al- 
most to  a  whisper, "  we  know  the  secrets 
of  one  another's  hearts,  Oli,  Brooke ! 
Brooke!  wliy  luive  wc  never  met  before? 
Oh,  Brooke  !  how  strangely  we  have  drifted 
together!  IIow  much  v,-c  have  learned 
about  each  other !  Is  Fate  so  bitter  as  to 
make  us  drift  away,  after — afler — " 

Iler  voice  died  away  altogether,  and  she 
turned  her  face  aside  and  bowed  down  her 
ht.-d. 

Brooke  looked  at  lier  for  a  moment,  and 
seemed  about  to  take  her  hand,  but  he  con- 


quered this  impulse  and  resolut(,ly  averted 
his  eyes. 

"  Don't  know,  I'm  sure,"  said  he,  at  last, 
witli  an  affectation  of  airy  inditt'erencc. 
"  It  would  take  a  man  with  a  head  as  loi)<; 
us  a  horse  to  answer  such  a  (picstion  its 
that.  Talbot,  lad,  you  shouldn't  plunge  so 
deep  into  the  mysteries  of  being." 

After  tins  there  Avas  another  silence,  and 
then  Talbot  looked  uj)  at  Brooke  with  licr 
deep,  dark  glance,  and  begin:  to  speak  in  a 
calm  voice,  wliich,  however,  did  not  fail  td 
thrill  througii  the  heart  of  Brooke  as  lie 
listened. 

"  Brooke,"  said  she, "  you  have  your  own 
way.  Your  way  is  to  conceal  a  most  tin- 
der luid  pitying  lieart  under  a  rough  or  nt 
least  an  indifl'erent  manner  —  lo  hide  tlic 
deepest  feeling  under  a  careless  smile,  and 
pretend  to  be  most  vol'itile  and  flippant 
when  you  are  most  serious.  You  can  per- 
form lieroic  actions  as  though  they  were 
the  merest  trifles,  and  lay  down  your  lill' 
for  a  friend  Avith  an  idle  jest.  You  nuiki 
notliing  of  yourself  and  all  of  otlicrs.  You 
can  suffer,  and  pretend  that  you  enjoy  it: 
and  when  your  heart  is  breaking,  you  ciin 
force  your  voice  to  troll  out  verses  from  old 
songs  as  though  your  chief  occu])ation  in 
life  were  nonsense,  and  that  alone.  And 
this  is  the  man,"  continued  Talbot,  in  a 
dreamy  tone,  like  that  of  one  soliloquizing' 
— "this  is  the  man  that  I  found  by  chance 
in  my  distress ;  the  man  that  responded  to 
my  very  first  appeal  by  the  offer  of  his  life: 
that  went  in^o  the  jaws  of  death  menlv 
to  bring  me  food ;  the  man  that  gave  up 
all  the  Avorld  for  me — his  duty,  his  love, 
his  life;  the  man  that  has  no  other  pur- 
pose now  but  to  5avc  me,  and  who,  when 
liis  whole  frame  is  quivering  with  anguisii, 
can  smile,  and  sing,  and — " 

"  Wcll,wli.i'  of  it?"  interrupted  Brooke, 
harshly.  "  What  of  it,  oh,  thou  searcliei 
of  hearts '«  And,  moreover,  as  to  nonsense, 
don't  you  know  what  the  poet  says  ? 

"  'A  little  nonscnec  now  nud  tlien 
I»  lelislied  l)y  tlic  wisest  men,' 

Moreover,  and,  yea,  more,  as  to  smiles  and 
liUiglitcr,  don't  you  know  what  another 
poet  says  ? — Shakspearc,  for  instance : 

"  "Tis  bettor  to  Innsh  tliiiii  be  gighliig;' 

or,  as  Lord  Bacon,  or  Plato,  or  somehodv 
else  says,  '  Laugh  and  grow  fat.'  Ami 
didn't  John  Bunyan  prefer  the  House  ot 
Mirth  to  the  House  of  Mourning? 


A  CASTLE  IN  SPAIN. 


89 


"  'John  Bmiyaii  war  -  tinker  boKl, 
His  iiaiiio  -ve  all  dclislit  in  ; 
All  (lay  liu  tinkered  pota  and  pans, 
All  night  he  stuck  to  writin', 

III  Bedford  etreeta  bold  Johuuy  toiled, 

An  ordinary  tinker; 
In  Bedford  jail  bold  Johnny  wrote— 

Old  England's  wisest  thinker. 

About  the  Pll^iriras  Johnny  wrote. 

Who  ninde  the  emigration ; 
And  the  Pilgrim  Fatiiers  they  became 

or  the  glorious  Yankee  nation. 

Ad  nrbem  ivit  Doodlius  cum 

Caballo  et  calone, 
Ornavit  pUima  pileum 

Et  dixit:— Maccaroni'.' 

Excuse  mc,"  he  continued ;  "  you  don't  un- 
derstand dog-Latin,  do  you,  Talbot  ?" 

"No,"  said  she,  with  a  smile,  "  but  I  un- 
derstand you,  Brooke." 

"Well,"  said  Brooke,  "but  apart  from 
the  great  question  of  one  another  wliicli  is 
just  now  fixing  us  on  the  rack,  or  on  the 
wheel,  or  pressing  us  to  any  other  kind  of 
torment,  and  considering  tlie  great  subject 
of  mirthfulness  merely  in  the  abstract,  do 
you  Hot  see  how  true  it  is  that  it  is  and 
must  be  the  salt  of  life,  that  it  preserves 
;ill  living  men  from  sourness,  and  decay, 
■md  moral  death  ?  Now,  there's  Watts,  for 
instance — Isaac  Watts,  you  know,  author 
i)f  that  great  work, '  Watts's  Divine  Hymns 
■Mh\  Spiritual  Songs  for  Infant  ]\Iinds,'  or 
it  may  have  been  '  Watts's  Divine  Songs 
imd  Spiritual  Hymns  for  Infant  Mind.'  I 
really  don't  remember.  It's  of  no  conse- 
iiuence.  Now,  what  was  Watts?  Why, 
mi  my  side  altogether.  Read  his  works. 
i  Consult  him  in  all  emergencies.  If  any- 
thing's  on  your  mind,  go  and  iind  Wiitts 
1  oil  the  mind.  It'll  do  you  good.  And  as 
the  song  says : 

'• '  Oh,  the  Ueverend  Isaac  Watts,  D.D., 
Wn«  a  wonderful  boy  at  rhyme  ; 
So  let  every  old  bachelor  fill  up  his  glass 
And  go  in  for  a  glorious  time. 
Chorus.— Lot  dogs  delight 
To  bark  and  Ijite, 
But  we'll  be  jolly,  my  lads,  to-night.' " 


During  this  last  little  diversion  Brooke 
'.levcr  turned  his  eyes  toward  Talbot.  She 
was  close  by  his  side ;  but  he  stood  look- 
ing out  of  the  window,  and  in  that  attitude 
iiopt  rattling  on  in  his  most  nonsensical 
«ay.  It  was  only  in  this  one  fact  of  his 
areful  manner  of  eluding  the  grasp,  so  to 
peak,  of  Talbot's  eyes,  that  an  observer 
might  discern  anything  but  the  most  care- 
oss  gaycty.    To  Talbot,  however,  there  was 


something  beneath  all  this,  which  was  very 
plainly  visible;  and  to  her, with  her  pro- 
found insight  into  Brooke's  deei^er  nature, 
all  this  nonsense  offered  nothing  that  wivs 
repellent;  on  the  contrary,  she  found  it 
most  touching  and  most  sad.  It  seemed 
to  her  like  the  eftbrt  of  a  strong  man  to 
rid  himself  of  an  overmastering  feeling — a 
feeling  deep  within  him  that  struggled  for- 
ever upward  and  would  not  be  repressed. 
It  rose  up  constantly,  seeking  to  break 
through  all  bounds ;  yet  still  he  struggled 
against  it;  and  still,  as  he  felt  himself  grow 
weaker  in  the  conflict,  he  sought  refuge 
in  fresh  outbursts  of  unmeaning  words. 
But  amidst  it  all  Talbot  saw  nothing  ex- 
cept the  man  who  had  gone  forth  to  die 
for  her,  and  in  all  his  words  heard  noth- 
ing except  the  utterance  of  that  which 
proved  the  very  intensity  of  his  feelings. 

"Oh  yes,"  continued  Brooke,  "thee  are 
lots  of  authorities  to  be  quoted  in  favor  of 
mirthfulness.  I've  already  mentioned  Bun- 
yan  and  Watts.  I'll  give  you  all  the  rest 
of  the  old  divines. 

'• '  Oh,  Baxter  is  the  boy  for  me, 
So  full  of  merriment  and  glco; 
And  when  I  want  a  funny  man, 
1  turn  to  any  old  Puritan  :— 

A  Puritan, 

A  funny  man, 
I  read  the  works  of  a  Puritnu  ! 

Among  the  Puritan  divines 
Old  Cotton  Mather  brightest  sliincs, 
And  he  could  be  a  funny  man, 
Because  he  was  a  Puritan  :— 

A  Puritan, 

A  funny  man. 
Old  Mather  was  a  Puritan  ! 

Tlie  old  Blue-I.aws,  of  all  the  best, 
Old  (^alviii  made  in  solemn  jest; 
For  fun  he  never  could  tolerate. 
Unless  established  by  tlie  State : — 

A  Puritan, 

A  funny  man, 
John  Calvin  was  a  Puritan  !' " 

This  eccentric  song  Brooke  droned  out 
in  nasal  tones  and  witli  a  lachrymose  wh.ne 
to  the  strangest  tune  that  ever  was  heard. 
At  its  close  lie  heaved  a  sigh, and  said: 

"Well,  it's  dry  work  singing  hymns  all 
by  myself,  and  you  won't  even  'jine '  in  the 
choruses,  and  so — I'll  stop  the  machine." 

Saying  this,  he  turned  away  and  went  to 
the  opjiosite  side  of  the  small  loft,  where 
he  sat  down  witii  his  ''.ead  against  the  wall. 

"Does  any  lady  or  gentleman  present 
object  to  smoking?"  said  he,  after  a  brief 
pause,  as  he  drew  forth  his  pipe  and  smok- 
ing materials.  "  Because  I  propose  to  take 
a  sinokc,  and  I  should  like  to  know,  just 
out  of  curiosity."        ... 


90 


A  CASTLE  IN  SPAIN. 


To  this  Talbot  made  no  reply,  but  sat 
down  op[)ositc  Brooke,  in  the  same  atti- 
tude, and  watched  hun  as  he  smoked,  whi'  n 
he  proceeded  to  do  without  any  further 
delay. 

"  You  don't  smoke,  I  believe,  sir,"  said 
Le,  witli  all  gravity. 

Talbot  said  nothing. 

"  Well,"  said  Brooke, "  I  wouldn't  advise 
you  to  Ijcgiu ;"  and  with  that  he  went  on 
puffing  iiway. 

Brooke  at  last  finished  his  smoke,  after 
which  lie  put  his  pipe  in  his  pocket,  and 
then,  throwing  his  head  back,  sat  with  his 
eyes  obstinately  fixed  on  the  ceiling.  Tal- 
bot remained  in  the  same  attitude,  without 
moving.  She  had  kept  her  eyes  all  this 
time  fixed  on  Brooke,  and  knew  that  he 
was  avoiding  licr  glance.  All  the  same, 
however,  she  continued  watching  him,  and 
was  waiting  patiently  till  she  should  catch 
his  eye.  But  Brooke,  as  though  aware  of 
her  jjurposc,  avoided  her,  and  still  louked 
away. 

Tlius  these  two  sat  in  utter  silence  for  a 
long  time. 

It  was  Talbot  who  first  broke  the  silence. 

'•  Brooke,"  said  she,  in  a  soft,  low  voice, 
which  sounded  like  a  sigh. 

"  Well,  Talbot,"  said  Brooke,  in  a  voice 
which  was  strangely  altered  from  the  some- 
what hard  tones  of  forced  gayety  in  which 
he  had  last  been  speaking. 

"  Brooke,"  said  Talbot, "  I  am  miserable." 

Brooke  was  silent  for  a  time.  He  made 
a  movement,  then  checked  himself,  and  tlien 
said, 

"  Arc  you  ?     Odd,  too,  isn't  it  ?" 

"I  am  miserable,"  said  Talbot  again; 
"and  it  is  strange,  for  your  life  has  been 
saved,  and  we  are  out  of  immediate  dan- 
ger. Yet  I  am  now  more  miserable  than 
I  was  last  night  when  your  life  was  in 
danger.  Can  you  tell  me  wliy  it  is  so, 
Brooke  ?" 

Again  Brooke  made  a  movement,  which 
he  checked,  as  before,  by  a  strong  impulse. 

"  Give  it  up,"  said  he,  shortly. 

"I  know,"  said  Talbot.  "I'll  tell  you. 
It  was  this,'"  and  her  voice  dropped  as  she 
spoke  to  a  lower  tone.  "  Last  night  I  had 
made  up  my  mind  to  die  for  you.  Brooke." 

Brooke  drew  a  long  breath.  For  an  in- 
stant his  eyes  lowered.  Tiiey  caught  the 
gaze  which  Talbot  had  fixed  on  him — deep, 
intense,  unfathomable.  It  was  but  for  a 
moment,  and  then  it  was  as  though  he 
made  a  violent  effort,  and  tore  them  away. 


One  of  his  hands  caught  at  the  other,  ami 
held  it  in  a  tiglit  grip. 

"  Too  much  Talbot  in  that,"  he  said  nt 
lengtii,  in  a  harsh  voice.  "  If  you  go  on  dy- 
ing for  people,  what'll  become  of  you?" 

"And  now,"  continued  Talbot,  in  n 
dreamy  way — "  now,  when  suspense  am! 
danger  seem  over,  I  am  miserable — simi)ly 
miserable,  Brooke.  Why  should  my  mind 
have  such  strange  alternations,  feelings  so 
contradictory,  so  unreasonable  ?  I  ought  to 
be  happy — why  am  I  not  ?" 

"  Now,"  said  Brooke,  in  the  same  lur/sli 
tone  as  before,  "  you're  beginning  to  talk 
mctajihysics,  and  I'm  all  at  sea  there." 

Talljot  wa'  silent. 

Brooke  bejj  u  to  sing : 

"  How  doth  the  little  busy  bco 
Improve  ttic  shining  hour, 

Itut  I  |)reA;r 

The  catcrpil-ler 
That  feeds  on  tlie  self-same  flower. 
The  bee  he  slaves  for  all  bis  life ; — 
Not  so  the  other  one ; 

For  be  soars  to  the  sky, 

A  butterfly, 
Ere  half  his  days  are  doue." 

Silence  now  followed  for  a  very  Ioiil' 
time.     It  was  at  length  broken  by  Brooke 

"  Talbot,"  said  he,  in  a  soft,  low  voice. 

"  Well,  Brooke,"  said  Talljot. 

"Will  you  be  silent  if  I  say  something ;' 

"  Yes,  Brooke." 

"  Not  speak  a  word  ?" 

"No,  Brooke." 

"  Not  move  an  inch  ?" 

"  No,  Brooke." 

"  Well,"  said  Brooke,  on  second  thought*. 
"  I  think  I  won't  say  it." 

Talbot  said  nothing. 

Brooke  sat  looking  away,  as  usual,  but 
now,  at  last,  his  eyes,  which  had  so  long 
avoided  hers,  sank  down  till  they  met  lin 
gaze.  They  rested  there,  and  these  two  sat 
in  silence,  regarding  one  another  witli  a 
strange,  satl  look  of  longing,  as  though  tlicro 
was  between  them  a  barrier  over  whicli 
they  dared  not  pass.  And  that  banid 
arose  there,  invisible  yet  impassable  —  the 
pledge  of  lionor  and  fidelity  already  givi'i 
by  each  to  another,  at  the  thouglit  of  wiiid 
they  had  now  to  crush  down  the  surging 
passions  within. 

"Talbot,"  said  Brooke  once  more. 

"  Well,  Brooke,"  was  the  answer. 

"  Oh,  Talbot !  Ttxlbot  1  Do  you  know 
what  I  wish  to  say  ?" 

"  Yes,  Brooke,"  said  Talbot.  "  I  know  it 
I  know  it— all." 


A  CAS'^T^E  IN  SPAIN. 


91 


"  Well,  I  will  say  it,"  said  Brooke,  "  for 
I  cam  ot  k'jep  it.  Oh,  Talbot !  it  is  this— 
it  is  part  of  my  Puritan  education,  perhaps. 
Oil,  Talbot " — and  his  eyes  rested  on  hers 
with  a  devouring  gaze,  and  h'.s  voice  trem- 
bled and  died  out  into  almost  inaudible 
tones — "  oh,  Talbot,  my  younger  brother 
Talbot !  Very  pleasant  hast  thou  been  unto 
inc.  Thy  love  to  me  is  wonderful  —passing 
ilie  love  of  women  !" 

Talbot  was  true  to  her  promise.  Sh  j  did 
not  move  an  inch  and  she  did  not  spoak 
a  word.  But  her  eyes  were  fixed  upon  his; 
and  in  those  eyes  Brooke  saw  once  again 
what  he  had  seen  before — the  look  of  a  love 
that  had  .ilready  shown  itself  stronger  than 
lilb. 

*  *  *  ^:  *  * 

It  was  evening. 

Suddenly  there  arose  a  noise  outside. 
Brooke  started  up  anel  went  to  the  win- 
ilow,  where  he  stood  looking  out.  It  was 
Lopez,  with  all  his  followers,  who  were  re- 
turning. 

Brooke,  in  his  usual  fashion,  sang : 

"Oh,  little  Jack  he  climbed  so  high, 
Up  the  beanstalk  into  the  sky, 
Aud  there  he  saw  an  ogie  grim 
A  cnniin'  to  make  mince-meat  of  hlra. 

Sini^int;  fe-fl-fo-fiim— 

I  smell  the  blood  of  nn  Euglishniuu!" 


CHAPTER  XXVI. 

HOW    MR.  ASHUY    MEICT3    WITH    A    GRKAT    SURPRISE 
AND  A   VERY  GREAT   CON'SOLATION. 

AsHBY  was  alone  in  his  chamber.  His 
room  opened  from  the  lower  hall,  and  Avas 
directly  beneath  that  in  which  Harry  was 
confined.  It  was  of  the  same  dimensions 
ia  all  save  height,  in  which  i-espect  it 
was  much  inferior.  The  room  had  also 
a  gloomier  character,  for  the  high  stone- 
walls, as  they  rose  and  arched  overhead, 
had  the  aspect  of  some  cathedral  crypt  or 
burial-place.  The  windows  here  were  nar- 
row slits,  as  above,  through  which  the  dif- 
Icreut  court-yards  might  be  seen.  The  floor 
was  of  stone,  and  at  one  end  there  was  a 
huge  fireplace,  very  similar  to  the  others  al- 
ready mentioned,  though  not  so  high. 

It  had  been  a  long,  long  day  for  Ashby. 
Evening  came,  and  found  him  weary  and 
worn  out  with  ennui.  Without  any  occu- 
pation for  his  energies,  his  mind  preyed 
upon  itself,  and  there  certainly  was  suf- 
tii'iint  occupation  for  his  fancy.  His  mind 
was  in  a  whirl,  and  speedily  became  a  prey 


to  every  variety  of  conflicting  feeling.  He 
remembered  Katie's  bright  smile,  and  also 
the  dark  glance  of  Dolores.  He  was  jeal- 
ous of  the  smiles  which  Katie  had  so  lav- 
ishly bestowed  on  Harry.  He  was  ofl'end- 
ed  with  her  for  being  so  gay  under  such 
circumstances.  But,  iu  his  loneliness,  there 
were  other  feelings  which  were  stronger 
than  even  this  resentment  and  jealousy. 
There  were  certain  strange  and  indefinable 
longings  after  some  society;  and  the  soci- 
ety which  now  seemed  most  desirable  was 
the  gentle  presence  of  Dolores.  Her  last 
looks  remained  deeply  impressed  ui)on  his 
memory ;  her  last  deep,  earnest  glance  had 
sunk  into  his  soul.  He  could  not  throw 
aside  this  recollection.  Dolores  was  in  all 
Ids  thoughts,  though  he  had  tried  to  thrust 
her  aside. 

He  found  himself  continually  comparing 
these  two.  Would  Katie  be  so  glad  at  see- 
ing him  again  as  Dolores  had  been  at  meet- 
ing Inm?  Would  Katie  take  so  much 
trouble  for  the  sake  of  speaking  to  him? 
On  the  other  hand,  would  Dolores  be  so 
gay,  so  happy,  and  so  merry  when  torn 
from  him  ?  and  would  Dolores  look  upon 
him  in  his  loneliness  with  such  a  smile 
of  inditfercnce  and  light -hearted  mirth? 
Never !  Dolores  had  a  deeper  nature.  In 
the  glance  of  Dolores  her  inmost  soul  had 
been  revealed.  At  its  recollection  his 
nerves  thrilled,  his  heart  throljbed  faster. 
He  longed  to  hear  her  voice  again.  And 
thus,  as  the  hours  passed,  the  image  of  Ka- 
tie faded  away,  and  that  of  Dolores  grew 
more  strongly  defined ;  the  image  of  Do- 
lores as  she  had  last  appeared  to  him  — 
pale,  sad,  anxious,  earnest,  her  eyes  fixed 
upon  him  with  deep,  intense  melancholy 
and  i)rofound  pi  ty. 

"Afar  away  from  thee, 

Thy  pale  face  haunts  ine  yet ; 
Deep  yearns  my  heart  for  thee, 
Thy  last  sad  look  and  word  unable  to  forget." 

These  words  occurred  to  him,  and  he 
murmured  them  to  himself  It  was  to  Do- 
lores that  he  applied  them,  and  naturally 
too;  for  how  ridiculously  inapplicable  to 
Katie  would  they  be!  All  else  was  now 
forgotten  except  Dolores.  He  felt  a  long- 
ing after  her  that  was  like  homesickness. 
The  past  all  came  back.  He  recalled  her 
as  she  had  been  when  he  first  met  her  at 
Valencia.  A  thousand  little  incidents  in 
his  life  there,  which  had  been  for  a  time 
forgotten,  now  revived  in  his  memory.  He 
had  been  for  months  at  their  house  and 


92 


A  CASTLE  IN  SPAIN. 


had  been  nursed  through  a  long  iUness. 
He  Imd  been  loaded  with  kindness  rnd  af- 
fection. The  aged  motlier  had  been  lis 
nurse  during  his  ilhiess,  and  Dolores  had 
been  his  companion  during  his  convales- 
cence, lie  had  left  them,  expecting  soon 
to  return.  Circumstances,  however,  had 
arisen  wliich  kcjit  him  away,  and  he  had 
forgotten  her.  Now,  however,  a  stronger 
feeling  had  arisen  for  her,  as  I)olores  had 
ap))cared  in  more  than  her  olden  beauty, 
with  the  additional  charm  of  a  strange,  pa- 
thetic grace,  and  a  wistful  look  in  her  dark 
eyes  that  seemed  to  speak  of  something 
more  than  ordinary  friendship.  Slie  had 
spoken  of  the  days  at  Valencia;  she  had 
reproached  him  for  forgetting.  She  her- 
self had  not  forgotten  those  days  —  the 
days  in  which  they  used  to  talk  and  walk 
and  sing  together. 

As  there  was  nothing  to  divert  his  mind 
from  these  thoughts,  Ashby  gave  himself 
up  to  them,  and  thus  became  more  help- 
less against  them.  It  was  in  such  a  mood 
as  this  that  he  lay  upon  his  rude  couch, 
unable  to  sleep,  and  wondering  what  was 
to  be  the  end  of  his  present  adventure. 
Should  he  ever  see  her  again?  "Was  she 
here  now,  or  had  they  let  her  go?  The 
thought  that  she  might  possibly  have  been 
set  free,  that  she  might  now  be  far  away, 
was  too  distressing  to  be  entertained.  If 
so,  then  his  prison  seemed  doubly  dark. 
If  so,  then  what  could  he  do  ?  Even  if  he 
should  become  free,  what  was  he  to  do  ? 
Upon  one  thing  he  Avas  resolved,  and  that 
was  to  seek  after  her  until  he  might  find 
her.  And  Katie  ?  Well,  the  fact  is,  Katie 
was  left  out  of  consideration. 

Hours  had  passed.  Ashby  could  not 
sleep.  His  mind  was  as  active  as  ever,  and 
still,  as  ever,  his  thoughts  all  gathered 
about  Dolores. 

Suddenl}-,  in  the  very  midst  of  these 
thick-teeming  fancies,  his  attention  was  ar- 
rested by  a  strange  sound. 

It  was  only  a  slight  rustle,  scarce  audible, 
yet  still  he  heard  it,  and  under  such  circum- 
stances it  seemed  most  mysterious.  In  an 
instant  he  was  all  attention.  He  lay  mo- 
tionless, yet  listened  -with  intense  watch- 
fulness, peering  at  the  same  time  into  the 
dark  room,  where  the  moonlight  struggled 
through  the  low,  narrow  windows. 

After  a  little  while  he  thought  that  he 
heard  the  sound  again.  He  listened,  with- 
out motion. 

Then  there  came  a  different  sound.    It 


was  a  low  whisper — a  whisper  which,  how 
ever,  penetrated  to  his  very  soul : 

"Assebi!" 

Was  tliere  any  other  in  all  the  world  wlio 
would  pronounce  his  name  in  that  way; 
It  was  the  well-known,  well-remembered, 
and  dearly  loveu  name  as  it  had  been 
pronounced  by  Dolores  in  the  old  days  at 
Valencia.  Coming  thus  to  him  at  such  :, 
time,  it  seemed  too  good  to  be  true,  lli 
was  afraid  that  he  had  been  deceived  by 
his  own  fancy;  he  feared  to  move  lest  lu' 
miglit  dispel  this  sweet  vision.  Yet  he 
hoped  that  he  might  not  be  mistaken;  and 
in  this  hope,  scarce  expecting  an  answer, 
he  said,  in  a  gentle  whisper, 

"  Dolores !'' 

"  I  am  here !"  said  a  soft  voice. 

At  tins  Ashby's  heart  beat  wildl)',  and 
a  thrill  of  rapture  ruslicd  through  even 
nerve  and  fibre  of  his  being.  He  sprang 
up  and  peered  through  the  gloom,  ami 
moved  forward  in  the  direction  from  wliicli 
the  voice  seemed  to  have  come.  At  tlii; 
moment  he  did  not  stop  to  consider  how 
Dolores  could  luive  got  there.  It  wa- 
enough  that  she  really  was  there,  and  all 
other  feelings  were  lost  in  his  deep  joy. 

"  Dolores,"  he  said,  "  where  arc  you  ?  I 
don't  see  you." 

Through  the  room  a  figure  now  iid 
vanccd  across  the  moonbeams.  He  sav, 
the  figure.  In  another  instant  he  liai 
caught  Dolores  in  his  arms  and  held  her 
strained  close  to  his  wildly  throbbing 
heart.    But  Dolores  struggled  away. 

"  Oh  no  !"  she  said,  in  a  tone  of  distrcs?, 
speaking  in  her  sweet  Spanish — "oh  no, 
Sefior  Assebi.  This  is  cruel — when  I  have 
risked  so  much  for  you  !" 

"  Forgive  me,  dearest  Dolores,"  said  As 
by;  "but  you  have  come  to  me  like  an 
angel  from  heaven  in  my  darkest  hour. 
And  I  have  thought  of  you,  and  of  \m 
only,  ever  since  you  left  me  at  Burgos.  I 
wandered  all  through  the  streets  tliere  to 
find  you.  I  have  been  in  despair  at  losiii; 
you.  I  have  been  wondering  whether  1 
should  ever  see  you  again — and  now,  deiP 
est,  sweetest  Dolores,  I  have  you  again !'' 

All  this  was  rapidly  uttered  in  a  resist 
less  torrent  of  words,  in  wdiich  all  his  Iom 
pent-up  feelings  flowed  forth. 

Dolores  began  to  sob. 

"I  didn't  think  this,"  she  said,  "or 
should  liave  been  afraid  to  come.    Sefioi 
you  are  false  to  your  English  bride." 

"English  bride!"    cried   Ashby,  scon 


b 


A  CASTLE  IN  SPAIN. 


93 


fully.  "Wlmt  is  she?  A  doll!  I  never 
wisli  to  sec  lier  iigiiin.  My  liiney  for  lier 
was  a  whim— IV  passing  whim  !  You,  Do- 
lores— ijou  are  the  only  one  tluit  I  love  I  I 
love  you!  I  love  you,  I  adore  you  I  my 
own—" 

'•  rfenor,"  cried  Dolores,  tearing  away  lier 
hands,  whieii  Ashhy  hud  seizeel  in  his,  "  I 
will  instantly  leave  you  if  you  arc  so  dis- 
lionoriible.  All  this  is  insult  to  me — yes, 
to  me.  Oh,  sefior,  you  will  brealc  my 
heart !" 

As  Dolores  said  this,  sobs  burst  from  her. 
She  glided  away  into  the  gloom,  still  sob- 
bing.    Ashby  gave  way  utterly. 

"  Dolores,"  he  cried,  in  a  tone  of  entreaty 
— "  Dolores,  forgive  mc  !  I  will  never  oifend 
ajjain — never  —  never!  Oh,  forgive  me! 
Come  back,  Dolores !  Oh,  do  not  leave 
me,  Dolores  I" 

At  this  Dolores  relented,  and  Ashby  saw 
her  approaching  him  again.  He  advanced 
toward  her. 

"  Be  calm,"  she  said ;  "  speak  low  ;  we 
are  in  danger." 

"But  liow  did  you  get  here?"  asked 
Ashby. 

"  I  will  tell  you  another  time.  It  is  a 
secret  passage." 

"  A  secret  passage  ?" 

'•  Yes.  I  have  come  to  tell  you  that  I 
can  save  you.    You  may  escape." 

"  Escajw  ?" 

"  Yes,    I  know  the  way  out." 

"  How  does  that  happen  ?" 

"Oh,  I  have  been  here  before." 

"You!— here?" 

"Yes.  When  I  was  a  child  1  was  here. 
Jly  father  lived  here.  He  had  a  planta- 
tion.   But  enough  ;  I  know  the  way  out." 

"But  haven't  you  run  too  much  risk  in 
coining  here  ?" 

"  I  have  run  a  risk,"  said  Dolores,  slow- 
ly, "  but  not — too— much." 
""A  risk?" 

"Yes.  I  went  into  the  wrong  room.  A 
man  was  asleep  there.  I  went  to  him  and 
touched  him,  and  whispered  in  his  ear  your 
nauie." 

"  Dolores !" 

"  Hush  I  be  calm,  sefior.  Remember  your 
promise." 

"  Who  was  the  man  ?" 
'  I  could  not  see  him.     He  pursued  me, 
or  I  but  I  escaped." 

'  But  you  ! — how  did  you  get  here  ?" 

"  By  a  secret  passage,  as  I  said." 

"  In  what  part  of  tlie  castle  are  you  ?" 


"  Oh,  in  the  story  above." 

"  Do  they  treat  you  well  i"  asked  Ashby, 
in  a  tone  of  tender  solicitude. 

"  I  have  nothing  to  complain  of." 

"  Do  you  foci  lonely  ?  1  wonder  if  you 
have  felt  as  I  have  ?" 

Dolores  sighed. 

"  Sometimes,"  she  said,  "  1  have  felt  lone- 
ly." 

"  And  you  have  come  here  to  save  me  ?" 

"Yes— why  not?" 

"  But  you  arc  risking  much — perhaps 
your  life." 

It  all  burst  forth  now. 

"I  don't  care,"  said  Dolores,  impetuous- 
ly, "  if  I  can  save — you  !" 

Ashby  made  no  reply.  He  took  the  lit- 
tle hand  of  Dolores  gently  and  tenderly, 
without  any  resistance  on  her  part,  and 
held  it  in  silence. 


CHAPTER  XXVII. 

now  MR.  ASHBY  AND  MISS  DOI.ORKS  GARCIA  CARRY 
ON    A    VERY    INTERKSTINO   CO.NVERSATION. 

AsiiBY  Stood  thus,  holding  the  little  hand 
of  Dolores,  and  was  overcome  by  the 
strongest  emotions.  He  was  in  a  very  trj-- 
ing  position.  Her  presence  hlled  him  Avith 
joy,  yet  she  would  not  allow  him  to  express 
that  joy.  Being  bound  to  another,  he  was 
forced  by  Dolores  to  respect  that  bond. 
And  yet,  what  must  her  feelings  Ijc  toward 
him,  since  she  had  come  here  to  see  him, 
venturing  so  far  and  risking  so  much  ? 
Who  else  in  the  world  would  do  this  for 
him  ?  Would  Katie  ?  The  idea  was  too 
absurd.  Katie  was  a  mere  butterfly ;  but 
Dolores,  with  her  intense  nature,  her  pas- 
sionate self-devotion,  was  formed  out  of 
tliat  stuff  from  which  the  heroine  is  made. 
Katie  could  lose  all  she  loved  best,  and 
still  go  on  smiling  and  smiling;  but  Do- 
lores could  lay  down  her  life  for  her  friend. 
(Such  were  thosentimentsof  Ashl)y  on  this 
occasion,  and  need  not  be  considered  as  by 
any  means  a  fair  estimate  of  the  real  char- 
acter of  the  young  lady  in  question.  Katie 
has  j-et  to  speak  for  herself.) 

So  Ashby  felt  himself  debarred  from  mak- 
ing any  strong  demonstration  of  feeling 
either  by  word  or  act.  He  was  afraid  that 
Dolores  might  resent  it.  She  might  oven 
fly  from  him  as  mysteriously  as  she  had 
come.  He  was  bound,  therefore,  to  set  a 
watch  upon  himself,  and  repress  his  feel- 
ings most  strongly.    It  seemed  to  him  a 


94 


A  CASTLE  IN  SPAIN. 


great  concession  on  her  part  that  slic  per- 
mitted hiiu  even  to  hold  her  hand.  This 
was  ol"  itself  most  sweet,  even  ii"  he  could 
say  notiiinf,'  of  those  thoughts  that  were 
swelling  within  him. 

"IIow  did  you  manage  to  liido  yourself 
so  at  Burgos  T  ho  asked,  after  a  long  si- 
lence. 

"  I  did  not  hide,"  said  Dolores.  "  I  went 
to  that  house  where  my  friends  were  ;  and 
on  the  following  morning  they  took  me  to 
a  hotel  where  tliey  said  there  was  an  En- 
glish fiimily.  These  were  the  Ilussells,  and 
they  consented  to  let  me  travel  with  them 
as  far  as  I  was  going.  Your  English  maid- 
en is  very  beautiful,  seiior." 

Dolores  spoke  these  last  words  in  a  tone 
full  of  pathos. 

"  She  is  a  pink-and-whitc  doll,"  said 
Ashby,  sharply.  "  Tell  me  about  yourself, 
Dolores.  Do  you  know" — and  he  bent  down 
low  over  her — "  do  you  know  how  I  tried 
to  see  you  ?  I  was  U]i  at  four,  and  from 
that  until  ten  I  paced  the  streets  in  all  di- 
rections, hoping  to  get  a  glimpse  of  you. 
Did  you  know  that  I  was  looking  for  you  ? 
Then  at  last  I  saw  you  with  that  beast  of 
a  tailor,  and  I  was  in  despair." 

"  AVIiat !  could  you  not  join  their  party? 
I  wondered  why  you  did  not  come  to  speak 
to — to  me,"  said  Dolores,  "  and  I  felt  hurt 
— because  I  thought  I  might  never  see  you 
again." 

"  Dolores,"  said  Ashby,  taking  her  hand 
in  both  of  his,  and  drawing  nearer  to  her, 
"I  swear  that  at  that  time  I'd  have  given 
my  right  arm  to  speak  to  you.  But  that 
devil  of  a  tailor  is  my  bitter  enemy ;  and 
you  saw  the  quarrel  we  had  in  the  railway 
station  at  Madrid." 

'•Then  you  did  not  purposely — avoid 
me  ?"  said  Dolores,  in  a  faltering  voice. 

"Oh,  Dolores!"  said  Ashby,  in  a  re- 
proachful tone.  He  tried  to  draw  her  near- 
er, but  Dolores  would  not  allow  it. 

"I  thought  that  I  should  like  to  say 
good-bye,  and  it  seemed  sad  to  have  you 
appear  to  avoid  me." 

"  By  heavens,  Dolores  !"  cried  Ashby,  "  I 
had  made  up  my  mind  to  leave  the  train 
and  follow  you  to  Pampeluna." 

Dolores  sighed. 

"  You  could  not  have  left  your  Englisli 
maiden,"  said  she. 

"  I  could — I  would  !"  cried  Ashby.  "  By 
heavens,  I  would  !  Siie  is  nothing  to  me — 
nothing  better  than  a  kitten.  The  moment 
you  came,  I  understood  all  my  feeling  for 


her.  It  was  nothing.  Beside  you,  she 
sinks  into  utter  insignificance.  You,  Do 
lores,  arc  everything  to  me.  I  tell  you,  you 
arc  infinitely  dearer  to  me  than  that—  " 

"  Hush,  sefior,"  said  Dolores;  "  I  will  not 
— I  will — will — will  not  listen  to  one  sin- 
gle, single  word  of  this." 

"  But,  oh,  dearest,  sweetest  Dolores,  will 
you  not  let  me  tell  you  how  I  love  you 
said  Ashby,  drawing  her  closer  to  him. 

Dolores  shrank  away. 

"  Oh  no — no,  no !"  she  said.  "  I  will  not 
listen — never — never — never !" 

"  I  tell  you,  Dolores,"  continued  Ashbv, 
"  since  I  have  seen  you  I  have  discovercM 
that  all  the  world  and  everything  in  it 
isn't  worth  a  straw  to  me  unless  I  have 
you.  I  swear  to  you  that  when  you  left  n.t 
at  Burgos  all  the  light  of  life  went  out 
and  all  the  joy  and  sweetness  of  life  Ic 
me.  I'd  rather  stand  here  in  this  prison 
with  you  than  be  a  king  outside  without 
you.  And  I'm  glad  that  these  devils  of 
Carlists  have  captured  us." 

As  Ashby  spoke  these  words  in  a  low. 
fervid,  e.xcited  whisper,  he  held  Dolores 
tight  in  his  arms,  pressed  to  his  quiet 
throbbing  heart ;  nor  could  she  draw  away 
from  him,  in  spite  of  her  shrinking  back, 
In  fact,  the  poor  little  thing  did  not  seem 
to  have  the  will  to  get  away  from  him,  for 
the  end  of  it  was  that  her  head  fell  down 
helplessly  on  his  breast,  and  she  began  tol 
cry: 

"I  —  think  —  it's  —  cruel,"'  she  sobbed 
"  cruel  in  you  !" 

Ashby  pressed  her  more  closely  to  hiil 
heart  in  the  same  "cruel"  manner,  andj 
kissed  awry  her  tears. 

"  You're  not  kind  to  me  at  all,"  siglici]| 
Dolores. 

To  this  observation  Ashby  made  no  :({ 
ply,  thinking,  perhaps,  that  at  that  momtiii 
words  were  of  no  particular  use. 

"  It's  very  cruel,"  repeated  Dolores,  '•  an- 
I  did  not  think  you  would  be  so  unkind— 

To  this  Ashby's  answer  was,  as  before 
liy  "'ts  that  were  more  eloquent  tlia 
wo, 

"Dolores,"  said  he,  as  soon  as  he  w:i 
able  to  express  himself  coherently,  "  if  yoi 
had  not  come,  I  really  think  I  should  hav 
killed  myself." 

"Did  you  really  feel  so  badly?"  askc 
Doloves,  in  a  tender  voice. 

"jMy  heart  ached,"  said  Ashby;  ''i 
ached  for  the  sight  of  you.  Do  you  knc 
what  heartache  is,  uarling  ?    Do  you  kuo 


A  CASTLE  IN  SPAIN. 


B     what  it  is  to  hunger  and  tlarst  and  long 
I     and  yearn  after  some  one  ?" 
I         Dolores  siglied.     bhc  said  nothing,  but 
lier  heiul  rested  more  closely  on  Aslii)y"s 
breast,  and  one  little  hand  stole  timidly  ui)  j 
and  was  laid  lightly  on  his  sliould;'r. 

"  Do   you    know  anytiiing   about   such  i 
i'celings,  Dolores  if"  persisted  Ashby. 

"AH,"  siud  Dolores,  in  a  scarce  taudible 
whisper,  ''  all — all— all !    IJut  tell  nic,"  said 
she,  looking  up  as  though  trying  to  see  his  | 
lace  in  the  gloom,  "  who  was  it  V 

"Who  was  it?    What  a  question  !    You  I  j 
you,  darling  !  you,  Dolores !" 

"Not  the  English  maiden?"  she  asked. 

"She  '."said  Ashliy, contemptuously; "she 
is  a  doll — a  butterfly — a  kitten !  She  is 
nothing — a  poor  creature  with  no  brains 
and  no  heart !  Even  her  beauty  is  mere 
prettiness.  There  is  no  soul  in  her  face, 
no  lightning  in  her  glance." 

"And  wh>  has  suul  in  her  face  and 
lightning  in  her  glance  ?"  asked  Dolores, 
shyly. 

"Who?  You!  you,my darling, dark-eyed 
Dolores!  you,  with  your  deep,  unfathom- 
able, glowing,  soul-lit  eyes  that  pierce  to 
luy  inmost  heart,  and  make  me  thrill  at  the 
recollection." 

"And  won't  you  say  that  all  again?" 
said  Dolores;  "and  won't  you  say  that 
about  the  English  maid?  I  love  to  hear 
you  call  her  names." 

Dolores  said  this  with  the  innocence  and 
frank  simplicity  of  a  child. 

"  She  is  a  baby  !"  said  Ashby;  "  the  En- 
glish maiden — a  mere  baby  1  Siie  can  only 
smile,  and  smile,  and  be  silly.  Ilcr  only 
desire  is  to  find  some  one  who  will  pet  her. 
She  can  only  live  in  the  sunshine.  She  is 
a  butterfly !  She  has  no  heart,  no  soul ! 
She  is  a  doll  to  be  looked  at,  but  she  can 
give  no  return.  She  is  a  kitten  that  thinks 
of  nothing  but  play.  But  as  for  me,  I  give 
rll  my  heart  and  all  uiy  love  to  a  girl  I 
know,  who  is  no  mere  fair-weather  f-iend, 
but  one  who  has  clung  to  me  Mlien  otliers 
were  false,  who  has  come  to  me  in  my 
darkness  and  my  despair,  so  that  my  dun- 
geon has  become  a  heaven,  and  this  dark 
night  is  the  brightest  time  of  my  life.  And 
this  girl — tills,  my  Spanish  girl,  is  iny  idol 
and  my  deity.  I  adore  her,  for  I  know  that 
she  stands  ready  to  give  up  all  for  my  sake, 
and  to  lay  down  her  very  life  for  me. 
Never — never  in  all  my  life  have  I  known 
anything  like  the  deep,  intense,  vehement, 
craving,  yearning,  devouring  love  that  I 
7 


95 


i  vol 


feel  for  licr.  It  even  makes  me  smile  to 
think  liow  feeble  and  contemptible  other 
feelings  have  been  in  comparison  with  this. 
I  want  no  other  occufjation  than  to  spend 
all  my  hours  recalling  all  that  my  darling 
love  has  ever  said— in  recalling  the  days  at 
Valencia,  before  I  knew  she  was  so  dear, 
and  the  highest  bliss  of  life  I  liavc  now. 
I  could  be  willing  to  die,  and  couM  even 
die  gladly,  my  darling,  darling  Dolores,  if 
I  could  die  with  your  hand  iu  mine." 

Ashby  was  going  on  farther  in  this  pleas- 
ing strain,  when  suihleidy,  and  without  a 
moment's  warning,  Dolores  gave  a  spring 
and  vanished. 

Ashby  stood  confounded.  Then  he 
stared  all  around.  Then  he  called  after 
her, 

"  Dolores !  Dolores !    Don't  leave  mc  !" 

A  voice  came  back  through  the  gloom  : 

"  It-s-s-s-h  !   I  must  not  stay  any  longer." 

"  But  shall  I  never  see  you  again  ?" 

"Certainly;  I  will  come  soon,  and  show 
you  the  passage-way." 

"  Where  are  you  ?" 

"  Never  mind — good-night !" 

"Oh,  Dolores,  wait — one  word  niore.'' 

"  Be  quick  !"  said  Dolores,  and  her  voice 
now  sounded  nearer. 

"  You  will  see  mc  again  ?''  said  Ashby,  in 
tones  of  entreat}'.  "  You  will  not  fly  and 
leave  mc  all  alone?  You  will  not  leave  me 
in  this  way  ?  I  may  be  tiiken  away  from 
this  room,  Dolores,  or  you  may  be  taken 
to  another  room ;  and  then  how  can  you 
get  to  me  ?  Show  me  how  you  came  here. 
You  might  do  that  much  for  me.  Only 
think  what  dangers  there  are." 

Dolores  paused  a  moment. 

"Well,''  said  she,  "only  promise  one 
thing." 

"  What  ?" 

"  That  you  will  not  try  to  visit  me.  That 
would  be  dangerous.     Others  are  with  me." 

"  I  will  not ;  I  i)romise — except,  of  course, 
in  cases  of  the  greatest  necessity." 

"  If  you  do,"  said  Dolores,  "  I  shall  think 
that  you  have  not  come  for  me;  I  shall 
think  it  is  for  the  English  maiden.  And 
now,  come^  I  will  show  you  the  way." 

Once  more  Dolores  appeared  through  the 
gloom." 


90 


A  CASTLE  IN  SPAIN. 


CHAPTER    XXVIII. 

IN    WHICH    "  HIS   MAJKSTY  "'    FALLS    IN    I.OVK. 

Mkh.  Ui'ssKLi/s  position  was  a  very  pe- 
culiar and  11  very  trying?  one.  From  tiie 
remarlx.s  of"  Ilia  Aliijesty"'  .siie  liad  reason 
to  belie\'e  tinit  iier  beloved,  yet  iMifortu- 
nate,  husband  bad  Ijeen  I'ouiid  i^uiity  of 
treason  aj,'ainst  tiiat  auj,aisl  nionareli,  and 
)iad  been  executed.  At  (lie  same  time, 
"His  Most  Sacred  JIaJesty"  bad  evinced 
what  appeared  to  be  a  devoted  attaclnnent 
to  lier  humble  self.  Now,  what  was  a  hii,di- 
toned  woman  to  do  under  such  circum- 
stances? Mourn  over  the  dejjarted  one? 
Most  certainly  ;  that  she  wouhl  ever  do. 
But  what  about  "  Hi.s  JMiijesty "  and  the 
royal  attentions?  Should  she  turn  a  deaf 
ear  to  that  too,  too  elo((uent  tonii'ue,  dasJi 
down  the  crown  of  Spain,  and  busy  herself 
in  unavailing  rcf^rets  for  the  lost  one?  Be- 
fore doini,'  so  it  would  be  well  to  pause. 

And  then  there  were  otiier  considera- 
tions. It  was  not  the  man  who  must  be 
considered,  but  the  KiiiLf.  It  was  not  her 
own  feelings  which  she  must  re<;iird,  but 
the  well-being  of  Spain,  the  good  of  Eu- 
rope, and  the  interests  of  humanity.  Would 
it  not  be  better  that  the  throne  of  Si)ain 
should  be  tilled  by  a  virtuous  English- 
woman than  1)}'  some  frivolous  Continental 
princess?  Would  it  not  be  better  that  the 
Queen  of  Sp:un  should  emulate  the  domes- 
tic graces  of  a  Victoria  than  the  corrupt 
follies  of  an  Isal)clla  ?  Should  she  now, 
out  of  selllsh  private  grief,  deprive  Spain 
of  such  an  inestimahlc  boon  ?  Would 
Spain  forgive  her?  Would  England?  Nay, 
would  the  world  ?  Could  she  forgive  her- 
self? 

"  Nay,  nay,"  slie  said  to  herself,  "  this  is 
not  a  time  for  weakness.  IMy  heart  must 
ever  lie  entombed  in  the  grave  of  my  deav 
lost  Johnny ;  yet  State  reasons  compel  me 
to  bestow  my  hand.  I  cannot  resist  tlie  cry 
of  stricken  Spain.  Yes,  thou  royal  wooer  I 
take  my  hand — it  is  thine ;  and  my  only 
sorrow  is  that  I  cannot  j'ct  give  thee  all 
this  stricken  heart.  Yet  patience,  fond  one; 
it  may  all  be  thine  in  time — all — all." 

Katie  was  surprised  to  observe  an  un- 
wonted dignity  suildenly  come  over  Mrs. 
Husscll.  She  informed  that  young  person 
that  she  needn't  call  her  "Auntie"  now, 
but  "  ^Madame,"  or  "  Senora,"  and  proceed- 
ed to  drop  mysterious  hints,  from  Mhich 
Katie's  quick  wit  soon  gathered  the  whole 
of  tlic  facts  of  the  case. 


Katie  e.xultcd  so  in  this  discovery  tlmt 
she  felt  hap|)ier  than  ever  in  her  life  be- 
fore, and  her  only  trouble  was  that  she  had 
no  one  to  whom  she  might  tell  this.  How- 
ever, .she  did  the  best  she  could,  and  set 
lu'rself  to  the  task  of  confirming  Mis.  Hu>- 
sell  in  her  views  and  intentions;  in  which 
she  was  ,so  successful  that  the  latter  began 
to  imagine  herself  as  almost  already  on  the 
throne;  and  when  Katie  once  or  twice  ac- 
cidentally addressed  her  as  "  Your  Majes- 
ty,"  the  g(iod  lady  did  not  check  lier. 

Another  visit  from  "His  ^Majesty"  found 
Mrs.  liussell  like  ripe  fruit  ready  to  be  gath- 
ered. On  this  occasion,  as  before,  the  au- 
gust monarch  came  alone.  He  was  in  high 
good-humor,  and  smelt  strongly  of  whis- 
key. He  began,  in  a  strain  of  gallantry, 
complimenting  the  ladies  in  general  on 
their  numerous  charms. 

"Yez  oughtn't  to  be  kei)t  here  undlier 
lock  an'  kay,"  said  "His  jVIajcsty,"  "an"  me- 
silf  'ud  be  the  proud  man  to  let  ye/,  out, 
ivery  one  av  yez,  but  thin  how  do  I  know 
that  I'd  iver  see  yez  agin  ?  I  must  kape 
yez  till  me  fate's  decoided.  I  don't  know 
yet  that  ye'd  be  willbi'  to  come  to  terrums; 
an'  so  ye're  loike  O'Rafl'erty  in  the  song: 

" '  Oh,  n  flue  pnir  fiv  li.indfiifTs  lie  wnio, 
That  the  s^lifiin'  hud  iiiili'ly  adjiislcil, 
llccmise  th,:t  oflUi.il  poi>:iyvetl 
That  O'HafTcrty  couklu't  l)u  tnif  ted.'  " 

"Ah,  sire,"  said  Mrs.  Russell,  with  a 
sigh,  "Your  Koyal  Majesty  holds  us  by 
stronger  bonds  than  bolts  and  bars." 

"  Be  jabcrs  !"  exclaimed  "  His  IMajesty,'' 
"  that's  good  !  that's  nate  I  that's  illignntl 
I  couldn't  bate  that  mesilf,  an'  I  hoj)e  that 
all  the  ladies  prisent  Mill  join  in  that  sinti- 
mint." 

As  lie  spoke,  "His  IMajesty"  looked 
hard  at  Katie,  but  that  young  lady  did  not 
catch  the  royal  eye. 

"The  throne  av  Spain,"  continued  "His 
i\Iajesty,"  "  an'  the  crown  an'  sceptre  av 
S;iain,  an'  all  the  r'y'l  regalia,  an'  all  the 
moight  an'  majesty  an'  magnificence  av  its 
pomp  an'  power — be  jabers  1  they're  all 
goin'  a  beggin'  in  this  room  ;  an'  there's 
one  here  that's  only  got  to  wink,  an'  it's 
hers,  every  l)it  av  it." 

Mrs.  Russell  here  made  desperate  efforts 
to  catch  the  royal  eye,  but  to  no  purpose, 
for  that  eye  was  fixed  on  Katie. 

"  Yis,''  continued  "  His  jVlajcsty,''  "  an' 
afore  to-morrow  noon  it  'ud  be  all  hers, 
any  time  at  all — crown  an'  sceptre  an'  all— 


A  CASTLE  IN  SPAIN. 


07 


an'  tlie  mnrrincrc  coroinony  cud  come  off  in 
tliu  mornin',  loiko  Tim  ; 

"  '  Oh,  mnrrlcd  was  Tim  at  the  dnwn  iiv  day ; 
IIIh  briilu  wiiH  ilHtoiit  owlil  wiildy  ; 
Slio  DWiii'd  II  liors^e,  iin'  (die  (iwiicd  a  i-liiiy, 
All'  licr  niuidt'U  iiuuic  >vus  Uliidy.'  " 

Tiu;  ImiiiiH  of  tliis  illustrions  licinj^  wure 
iiiiii,aiiar,  nnd  liis  tei.  icncy  to  matce  odd 
(luotalioiis,  wliich  were  not  idwajs  purticu- 
lariy  relevant,  was  not  tiie  least  surprising 
id'  his  ways.  In  this  last  quotation  Jlrs. 
Russell  found  several  olijeetiouahit!  exprcs- 
siiins;  but  on  the  whole  the  idea  was  a 
llatterini,'  one,  for  the  subject  of  tlie  nur- 
nitive  was  represented  as  "marrying  a 
widow;"  anil  this  little  circumstance  was 
taiven  as  a  fresh  proof  of  "Ilis  Majesty's" 
devotion. 

"  Yez  niuHtn"t  think,"  continuetl  "  His 
.Majesty,"  "  that  there's  any  lack  av  our 
r'y'l  attintion  to  yez  because  yez  haven't 
i,'t)t  much  to  brag  av  in  the  way  av  food ; 
hegorra !  I'm  in  the  same  box  mcsilf,  aa'  it 
isn't  much  at  all  at  all  I  can  get  here  except 
mutton,  an'  it's  mesilf  that  "ud  give  all  the 
mutton  in  Spain  for  a  bit  av  a  pratie.  llow- 
audiver,  I  hope  to  get  some  tish  by  to-mor- 
row mornin'.  If  we  could  only  get  a  taste 
av  a  few  praties  there'd  be  nothin'  wantin' ; 
for— 

"  '  Ifs  little  I  llXC.a, 

All'  liltlo  I  wijli ; 
If  others  want  liixmic.-',  let  them  ; 

For  praties  and  llsli 

Malcc  an  illiiraiit  di.sh, 
If  yo  only  have  whislioy  to  wet  them.'  " 

These  and  other  cheerful  remarks  of  a 
treneral  nature  Avcre  addressed  by  "  His 
Majesty"  to  tlie  company  at  large.  It  is 
true,  the  royal  eye  was  fixed  exclusively 
on  Katie,  and  therefore  the  royal  remarks 
were  probably  so  many  efforts  to  do  the 
a^q'ecable  to  her.  But  that  young  lady 
persistently  evaded  the  royal  eye ;  and  as 
Diilores  was  disregarded  altogether,  it  was 
uatural  enough  that  ^Irs.  Kussell  should 
appropriate  all  tlie  royal  remarks  and  make 
tiie  necessary  replies. 

"Ah,  sire!  your  'Royal  Jlajcsty'  is  so 
viiy  funny !  Arc  all  tlie  crowned  heads 
tluis  ?" 

"All  av  thim  —  ivcry  mother's  son  av 
tliim.  Ai\'  they're  an  illigant  lot.  But 
moind  this— it's  mesilf  that  bates  the  whole 
lid,  out-an'-out.  Ye  know,  I'm  not  only 
King  av  Spain,  but  heir  to  the  crown  av 
France." 

"  Is  it  possible  ?"  said  Sirs.  Russell. 

"  Divil  a  loie  I'm  tellin',"  said  "  His  Maj- 


esty." "It's  thruo,  so  it  is.  I'm  nixt  av 
kin  to  Henri  C'imi — that's  Cliamliord,  ye 
know.  Tlic  Count  av  Paris  is  Orleans,  not 
Bourbon.  I'm  Bourbon,  begorra !  An' 
widn  (.'hambord  doles,  an'  the  nixt  revo- 
lution takes  place  in  France,  I'll  march 
on  Paris  an'  give  pace;  to  tliat  unhapjiy 
counthry.  An',  be  jaliers!  I'll  take  me 
wife  wid  me,  an"  we'll  live  in  Paris,  an' 
I'll  get  lier  the  most  illigant  dhresses,  an' 
coort  coschumes,  an'  bonnets,  an'  Ijoots,  an' 
laces,  an'  g'."i">,  an'  jools,  that  iver  any 
woman  wore.  Tlie  (iuane  av  S[)ain  "11  be 
the  Quane  av  France  too;  an'  what's  more, 
she'll  be  the  (piaiK!  of  beauty  an'  fashion, 
an'  the  e.\-Enipres3  EugCnie'U  be  nowhere. 
She'll  be  forgotten." 

It  was  thus  that  the  royal  wooer  tried  to 
dazzle  Katie's  imagination;  but  whatever 
the  effect  on  her  may  have  been,  it  is  cer- 
tain that  Mrs.  Russell  experienced  the  full 
effect  of  the  dazzling  visions  which  those 
words  were  intended  to  call  up. 

"An'  now,"  said  "His  :\[ajesty,"  starting 
up,  "we  must  be  off.  AVe've  got  business. 
But  we  hope  to  sec  yez  soon,  an'  have  it  all 
arranged.  AVhisper,  darlint" — and  he  bent 
down  his  royal  head  close  to  Mrs.  Russell's 
tingling  car — "  whisper,  jool :  I'm  wantin' 
to  have  a  discoorse  wid  ye — somethin'  im- 
portant— I  must  see  ye  alone.  It's  ill  con- 
vaynient  just  now,  an'  I  don't  wa;.*-  ^o  be 
overleard.  I'll  wait  till  the  gycrruls  are 
aslape,  an'  I'll  Ink  in.  Ye'U  moiiid,  will 
ye?     This  noight,  jool." 

"Ah,  sire — ah,  'Your  Majesty,'"  sighed 
^Irs.  Russell,  "  I'm  ready— why  not  now  ?" 

"  Whis-s-s-s-s-s-s-s-s-sht !  shure  ye'll  spoil 
all,  so  ye  will.     Only  moind — to-noight  I" 

"Ah,  sire,  I'll  never  forget  —  never — 
never !" 

"  Thin  moind  to  be  on  the  luk-out,''  said 
"  His  Majesty;"  and  with  tliese  remarkable 
words  he  retreated,  leaving  Jlrs.  Russell  in 
a  state  of  mind  which,  as  the  novelists  saj-, 
"can  better  be  imagined  than  described." 


CHAPTER  XXIX. 

now   uAiiRv    r.vvs    anothkr   visit,   and    meets 

WITH    A   STUAXtiK    ADVKSTUKE. 

Hatiiiy's  loneliness  was  l)y  no  means  al- 
leviated at  finding  that  Katie  was  so  near. 
It  was,  indeed,  rather  aggravated,  for  to 
our  light-hearted  friend  it  seemed  intoler- 
able that  Katie  should  be  so  near  and  yet 
so  far.     She  was  separated  from  him  by 


98 


A  CASTLE  IN  SPAIN. 


If 


only  tt  few  pnccs,  nnd  yet  he  wns  conip(.'llocl 
to  kc('|)  uwuy  IVoiu  her.  'I'o  run  the  risk 
ol'tliscovery  wiis  not  to  be  thought  of.  IJy 
diiy  it  wuH  necessary  to  put  U|)  with  his 
solitude  as  hest  he  mi^jlit.  He  was  snlli- 
ciently  wary  not  to  IbrLjet  liinisulf,  and  he 
did  not  h)so  si^lit  of  the  probability  tlial 
he  was  watclicd.  Tiie  discovery  of  that 
passa{,'e-way  made  it  seem  not  unlikely 
tluit  this  Castle  in  Spain  was  all  honey- 
combed with  otiier  i)assaj,'es;  that  its  pon- 
derous walls  were  all  u  sham;  that  these 
mnsaivo  stones  served  merely  ns  iv  blind  to 
conceal  innumerable  liidinj,'-places  and  se- 
cret chambers.  He  was  sure  now  that 
these  walls  had  ears,  and  perhaps  eyes  also ; 
nnd  therefore  he  determined  to  I'.o  nothin<j; 
which  couk'.  leael  to  the  tliscovery  of  his 
secret. 

At  length  evenin<,'  came,  and  then  Hurry 
beiran  to  breathe  freely.  He  was  fully  re- 
solved on  payinj^  another  visit  to  Katie  at 
the  earliest  jiossible  moment.  He  knew 
that  she  Avould  be  expecting  him.  She 
would  not  be  asleep  this  time.  There  were 
many  things  which  he  wished  to  say,  and, 
above  all,  he  wished  to  persuade  her  to 
venture  into  the  passage-way  lierself,  at 
some  favorable  o|)})ortunity,  so  that  they 
might  sec  one  another  more  frcciuently. 

It  was  about  nine  o'clock  when  Harry 
entered  the  passage-way.  It  was  quite 
dark,  the  room  being  illuminated  in  part, 
ns  before,  l)y  tlic  struggling  moonbeams. 
lie  went  along  the  i)assage-way  and  came 
to  the  end  at  the  other  chimney.  There 
ho  paused,  and  waited,  and  watched. 
Gradually  he  became  aware  of  some  one 
beneath.  He  gave  a  low  whisper:  "Ka- 
tie !" 
A  low  whisper  was  returned :  "  Harry !"' 
Upon  this  he  descended  softly  and  noise- 
lessly. Katie  herself  was  there.  She  had 
been  expecting  him. 

"  They  arc  all  asleep,"  she  said.  "  I 
thought  I'd  just  come  here  to  see  if  you 
were  coming." 

"You  little  pet  I  You  knew  I'd  come.'' 
"  I  thought  you  might,  you  know." 
"  This  day  has  been  so  horribly  long, 
Katie ;  I  thought  it  would  never  end.  See 
here — can't  we  manage  to  run  away  ?  I 
wish  I  could  find  some  way  out.  But 
you're  chilly.  This  air  is  damp,  and  there 
is  a  bad  draught  down  the  chimney.  Come 
in  to  the  corner  of  the  room." 

"  But,  oh,  do  be  very,  very  cautious  1" 
said  Katie. 


Holding  her  hand,  Harry  went  stealthily 
into  the  room,  and  drew  lier  with  liini  n> 
tjuietly  as  iH.'<sible,  till  they  reached  a  cor- 
ner of  tiie  room  on  the  right  of  the  lin- 
|)laee.  This  corner  was  all  shrouded  in 
gloom,  HO  that  if  the  sleepers  had  awakeneil 
they  could  have  seen  nothing.  Here  tlic 
two  found  themselves  (piite  secure  for  the 
time  being;  and  as  all  the  room  was  jicr 
fectly  silent,  they  were  not  nfraiil  to  resuiiic 
their  stealthy  whispers. 

"Have  you  been  loiu'ly  to-day,  Katie;" 
asked  Harry,  in  a  tender  voice. 

"Oh,  a  liUle." 

"A  little!'"  repeated  he,  in  a  reproachful 
tone. 

"But  there's  been  such  an  awful  lot  of 
fun,"  said  Katie;  "I've  been  almost  burst  in;; 
to  tell  some  one— that's  you,  you  know." 

"Funr'  said  Harry,  wonderingly;  "what 
fun  ?" 

"Oh,  that  absurd  old  Paddy  King  Don 
Carlos,  as  he  calls  himself — only  he's  no 
moie  a  king  than  I  am.  Don't  you  think 
he's  some  strolling  Irish  vagabond  advent- 
urer 'C 

"  Irish  vagabond  ?  I  don't  know,"  saiti 
Harry.  Kow  Harry  had  only  heard  "  His 
Majesty''  speak  in  Spanish,  and  therefore 
did  not  see  the  point  at  all. 

"Well,  for  my  ]iart,  I'm  sure  he's  an 
Irishman,"  said  Katie.  "Mrs.  Kussell  says 
tli'it  he  learned  some  English  from  an  Irisli 
pwest;  but  that  wouldn't  account  for  hi> 
queer  songs." 

"  Songs f 

"Oh,  he's  utterly  ridiculous!  Who  or 
what  he  really  is  I  cannot  imagine.  And, 
do  you  know,  the  best  fun  of  all  is— he's  iu 
love  with  me." 

"In  love  with  you  ?''  Harry  cried,  recoil- 
ing as  he  said  it. 

"  Yes,  of  course — why  not  ?"  said  Katie, 

"  The  infernal  cad  !''  cried  Harry. 

"  Oh,  what  naughty  language  !"  said  Ka- 
tie.    "  Oh  !" 

"  D — n  him  !"  cried  Harry,  furiously. 
"  What  does  the  felloAv  mean  ?" 

"  I  declare  I  won't  listen  to  such  shock- 
ing language,"  said  Katie.     "  Now  *  op !" 

"Well — but  what  does  the  seoundicl 
mean  ?"  repeated  Harry,  in  jealous  wrath. 

"  Well,  he  means  to  try-^to  marry  me.'' 

"  JIarry  ! — you  !" 

"  Oh  yes ;  and  he  says  he'll  make  nic 
Queen  of  Spain — and  he  says  he  lias  a 
claim  to  the  crown  of  France  also,  whicU 
he  promises  to  share  with  me," 


A  CASTLE  IN  SPAIN. 


90 


"Oiiod  licnvcns  1"  siiid  lliinv,  iu  utttT 
( onstLniiition  ;  I'or  Harry  liiul  not  yet  done 
iiKin!  tliiin  vn)4;iicly  susjR'ct  timt  "His  Maj- 
(sty "  niij^ht  bo  iiny  otlier  tliiin  wliut  liu 
iliiiincd  to  1)0,  and  this  design  of  liis  npon 
Kiitio  scpuicd  now  a  peril  of  no  common 
iiini^nitiidi!.  "  Wliy,  Kiitie,"  lie  adilcd,  af- 
tciii  ])!iuse,  "a  royal  personatre  can't  marry 
u  [trivate  person  like  yon.  It's  illegal,  you 
know." 

"  Oil,  but  the  fun  of  it  is  lie's  only  a  com- 
mon Irishman,  and  he  drinks  whiskey,  and 
1ms  an  awful  hroi^ne.  Oh,  it's  such  fun  to 
listen  to  him  !  Hut  the  greatest  fun  of  all 
i-i,  auntie  believes  in  him.  She  thinks  he 
is  really  Don  Carlos;  and,  best  of  ail,  she 
thinks  he  is  making  love  to  her,  and  pro- 
piising  to  her." 

"  To  her  !  Why,  she  has  a  husband  al- 
ready." 

"Oh,  but  she  thinks  ho  has  been  killed." 

"  Killed  ?  Good  heavens  !  Is  that  re- 
jilly  so  ?  Poor  old  Itussell  1  Oh,  heavens ! 
Th'e  villains!     They'd  do  it.  too." 

And  Harry  thought  of  the  bonds  and  the 
siareli  after  them.  It  seemed  to  him  not 
;i!  all  unlikely  that  they  had  killed  Hussell 
SI)  as  to  get  at  these,  or  perhaps  to  punish 
him  for  not  giving  them  up.  Horror  now 
ipiite  overwhelmed  him.  Ho  felt  even 
.-hocked  at  Katie's  levity. 

'•  Hut  Mrs.  IlusseD,"  he  said  ;  "how  does 
she  bear  this  horrible  calamity  ?" 

"  Bear  it  ?"  said  Katie ;  "  Avhy,  she  wants 
to  be  Queen  of  Spain,  and  France  too  !" 

"AVhat,  when  her  husband  lies  murdered 
close  by?  Oh,  heavens! — oh,  good  heavens!" 

"  Well,  do  you  knoAv,  it  does  seem  very 
Olid  indeed." 

"But  you,  Katie — how  can  you  talk  of 
-'.leh  horrors  in  such  a  way  ?  What  will  l)e 
the  fate  of  the  rest  of  us,  after  this  ?" 

'■  Why,  you  poor  foolish  boy,  you  needn't 
scold  and  go  on  so.     I  don't  believe  he's  j 
(lead  any  more  than  you  arc.     I  believe 
that  "  His  Majesty  "  only  said  it  in  fun.    In  j 
fact,  he  never  did  actually  say  so." 

Harry  sighed  a  sigh  of  perplexity. 

"  But,  you  know,"  continued  Katie,"  IMrs. 
liussell  went  and  got  it  into  her  poor  old 
head.  Oh,  she's  very,  very  imaginative, 
poor  dear  old  auntie,  and  she  would  have 
it  so.  And  she  thinks  that  all  the  fcpcech- 
is  which  "His  Majesty"  makes  at  me  arc 
intended  for  her." 

"The  Avretched  creature!"  said  Harry; 
''  to  speculate  upon  her  husband'a  death, 
and  think  of  such  a  thing  as  marriage." 


"Oh,  but  she  says  that  it  is  not  love 
that  makes  her  think  of  it,  but  Stuto  pol- 
icy." 

'"  State  fiddlesticks  !" 

"  She  says  that  IMary  Queen  of  Scots 
married  Bothwell  after  her  husband's  mur- 
der, from  motives  of  State  policy." 

"Oh,  good  heavens!"  saiil  Harry,  whose 
sense  of  honor  and  loyalty  and  aH'cction, 
find  even  of  common  decency,  was  utterly 
outraged  at  such  a  revelation  ;  "  and  she  al- 
ways seemed  such  a  ([uiet,  good,  well-mean- 
ing sort  of  a  person." 

"But  she  means  well  now,"  said  Katie. 
"  She  says  her  marriage  is  to  be  for  the 
good  of  Spain  and  the  world  generally." 

At  this  Harry  was  silent.  He  could  find 
no  more  words  to  express  his  feelings.  Be- 
sides, although  all  the  words,  ejaculations, 
and  exclamations  above  reported  were  ut- 
tered with  as  much  caution  and  in  as  low 
a  tone  as  were  consistent  with  his  e.xcited 
feelings,  still,  they  made  more  noise  than 
was  wise  under  the  circui.. stances,  nnd 
there  were  signs  that  some  of  the?  sleepers 
were  restless.  These,  at  last,  attracted  the 
attention  of  the  two  and  interru])tcd  their 
conversation.  Several  heavy  sighs  from  a 
remote  corner  of  the  room  showed  that 
some  one  was  awake,  or  waking,  and  this 
warning  forced  them  to  keep  silence  for 
some  time.  At  length  all  was  still,  and 
Harry  ventured  to  .speak  again. 

"Oh,  Katie,"  said  he,  "can't  y  u  do 
something  Avith  that  wretched  Avoman  :;" 

"No,"  said  Katie.  "I'm  sure  all  I  s.ay 
only  makes  her  worse.  She  wants  me  now 
to  address  her  as  '  Your  ^Majesty  !'  " 

"  She's  mad,"  said  Harry ;  "  tlie  woman's 
utterly  mad !" 

"  Well,  she's  got  some  great  secret  now 
which  she  won't  tell.  As  'His  Majesty' 
was  leaving,  the  last  time,  he  kept  up  some 
very  mysterious  whisperings  with  her.  I've 
been  teasing  her  all  day  to  tell  me  what 
they  were,  but  in  vain.  She's  as  close  as 
the  grave.  A  great  crisis  is  approaching. 
And  the  fun  of  it  is  she  doesn't  know  that 
it's  mo,  and  not  her,  that  'His  Majesty' 
means." 

"  You  !  Oh,  Katie,  don't  talk  in  that  in- 
different way.'' 

"  Why  ?" 

"  Oh,  don't  you  sec  ?  You  are  here  so 
much  in  his  power.  Oh,  we  must  fly.  I'll 
hunt  along  the  passage  to-night,  and  I'm 
sure  I'll  find  something.  I'm  sure  there 
must  be  a  way  out." 


100 


A  CASTLE  IN  SPAIN. 


"But  I  don't  want  to  go,"  said  Katie; 
"  that  is,  not  just  yet." 

"  Not  wiiiit  to  go  ?" 

"No,  not  till  1  have  sonic  more  fun,  and 
see  liow  this  is  i^oinj^  to  end  ;  hut — " 

Here  Katie  stopped  abruptly  and  clutch- 
ed Hurry's  arm  convulsively.  Harry,  too, 
at  the  same  instant  started,  and  hoth  stood 
peering  into  the  durU,  and  listening  atten- 
tively. 

For  there  had  come  a  su(hlen  noise. 

It  was  a  very  peculiar  and  a  very  start- 
ling noise.  It  was  a  low,  shutiliiig  sound, 
as  of  some  one  moving  stealthily,  .md  it 
arose  from  the  direction  of  the  fireplace — 
the  very  i)laee  where  Harry's  retreii*^  would 
lie  in  case  of  discovery.  J3ut  now  that  re- 
treat seemed  cut  olV;  and  there  seemed  to 
be  some  one  there  who,  periiaps,  had  come 
on  his  track.  Harry's  only  tiiought  was 
that  his  room  had  been  entered  and  his 
absence  discovered,  upc.u  which  his  guards 
had  at  once  come  throegh  in  seared  of  him. 
How  many  there  were  he  could  not  tell. 
He  could  do  nothing,  liowever.  He  could 
only  stand  still  and  watch.  Soon,  he 
thought,  others  would  come  ;  lights  would 
be  jiroduced,  and  he  would  be  discovered. 

"  Leave  me  !"  said  Harr\  in  a  i'aint  whis- 
per.    "  It's  one  of  tho  guards.     I'm  lost !" 

Katie's  answer  thrilled  through  every 
nerve  of  the  listener. 

"Then  if  you  are  lost,  I  will  be  h)st  with 
you !'' 

Saying  this,  she  twined  both  her  arms 
round  his  arm,  and  held  it  pressed  tight 
to  her  throbbing  heart. 

Harry  stood  erect,  vigihmt,  staring. 


CHAPTER  XXX. 

now   SEVERAL  OF    OUK    FRIENDS    FIND    THEMSELVES 
IN    A   MOST   EXTRAOnniNAUY   SITCATION. 

So  Hurry  stood,  with  his  retreat  cut  off, 
staring  into  the  darkness,  while  Katie, 
clinging  to  liiin,  awaited  the  result.  Harry 
expected  every  minute  that  lights  would 
be  produced  and  everything  revealed.  But 
the  lights  did  not  come,  and  the  discovery 
was  delayed.  There  occurred  a  pause,  dur- 
ing wliich  Harry  waited,  after  which  the 
sliding,  sluiflling  sounds  recommenced. 

They  no',v  came  nearer.  Then  came  the 
sound  of  a  stealthy  footfall— very  slow,  too, 
and  very  cautious.  The  new-comer,  the 
supposed  pursuer,  whoever  he  was,  seemed 


now  to  be  in  the  room,  and  caiitiously  ad 
vancing.  As  yet  he  was  jnder  the  shadow , 
and  was,  therefore,  invisible  in  the  gloom: 
but  he  was  approaching  the  place  wIumv 
the  moonbeams  fell — where  he  might  bi' 
seen.  Harry  noted  this,  and  wondered  how 
many  more  of  them  there  might  be.  Katie 
also  looked  up  now,  and  stood  listening. 
IJoth  of  these  were  w.dting  for  a  chance  to 
separate  if  possible — Katie  to  go  back  to 
l.cr  own  place,  and  Harry  to  fly  Ijaek  to 
his  room. 

At  length  the  advancing  figure  reached 
the  ])lace  where  the  moonbeams  fell,  and 
here  he  entered  th  mooidight,  ',o  that  it 
was  ])()ssible  to  see  his  outline,  though  not 
to  distinguish  features.  It  was  a  man  - 
he  was  unarmed,  and  all  his  gestures  and 
motions  indicated  excessive  caution  and 
watchfulness.  Harry  and  Katie  both  saw 
him,  as  he  groped  about  and  peered 
through  the  gloom. 

"  It's  '  His  .Majesty,' ''  said  Katie. 

"  H-8-s-s-h  !"  said  Harry. 

The  slight,  whispered  sounds  seemed  to 
catch  tlie  ears  of  the  visitor.  He  stooil  and 
listened.  But  the  sounds  were  not  repeat- 
ed, and  he  resumed  his  progress. 

"I  know  who  it  is."  said  Harry,  in  tho 
faintest  possible  whisper. 

"  Who  ?" 

'•  It's  Ashby,"  said  Harry. 

Katie  said  not  a  woril  in  reply,  but  tho 
effect  of  that  name  upon  her  was  none  the 
less  manifest.  The  hands  which  had  been 
clasping  Harry's  arm  relaxed  their  hold  ; 
she  moved  away  from  him.  Harry  caught 
her  hand  and  tried  to  detain  her,  but  Katie 
snatched  it  away,  and  Harry  was  afrr.id  to 
insist.  It  wa.i  evident  that  she  was  offend- 
ed ;  and  at  what  ?  Was  it  at  the  mention 
of  Ashby's  name?  And  but  a  moment  be- 
fore she  had  said  that  she  would  share  his 
fate — "Then  if  you  are  lost,  I  will  be  lost 
with  J  on  I"  Those  were  her  words.  And 
now  she  was  offended  ! 

Harry  could  not  believe  it.  He  took  a 
step  after  her  and  found  her  again,  lie 
sought  again  to  take  her  hand.  It  wiis 
not  now  refused.  Katie  seemed  to  have 
overcome  her  irritation.  The  quarrel  was 
over.  So  overjoyed  was  he  that  he  put  hi-; 
arms  round  her  slender  form,  and  uncon- 
sciously pressed  her  close  to  his  heart, 
while  her  head  sank  down  on  his  breast. 
And  there,  all  the  time,  only  a  few  paces 
off,  was  Ashby  himself! 

But  tho  beauty  of  it  was  that  Aaliby  just 


A  CASTLE  IN  bPAlN. 


101 


then  was  not  thinkinjjj  of  Katie  at  all.  lie 
iiad  come  here  to  see  Dolores.  For  her  lie 
was  making  this  venture,  haviiij^  stolin  in 
throuf^h  the  passage -way  which  she  had 
shown  him.  He  hud  promised,  it  is  true, 
not  to  visit  her  except  in  cases  of  extreme 
necessity;  but  as  he  had  felt  very  IcMiely, 
he  concluded  that  this  was  the  necessity  in 
question,  and  had  come  to  this  place. 

The  room  seemed  to  him  very  silent, 
lie  had  come  down  the  chimney  with  very 
little  noise,  and  had  surveyed  the  scene 
iVom  tlio  dark  recesses  of  the  tireplace. 
The  corners  of  tlic  room  were  all  in  dark- 
ness, but  th(!  floor  was  ilhuninai^d  here  and 
there  by  the  moonbeams.  Having  thus 
taken  a  j^cneral  view,  Ashby  could  do  noth- 
iiiLt  else  but  go  forward;  and  this  he  did, 
thinking  that  every  one  was  asleej),  and 
tliat  i)y  some  happy  luck  he  would  find 
Dolores. 

As  for  Dolores,  she  was  not  asleep  at  that 
time,  nor  hiul  she  ijcen  asleep  at  all.  Katie 
had  taken  for  granted  that  the  beautiful 
Spaniard  was  in  the  land  of  forgetfulness; 
but  Katie  had  never  in  her  lite  been  more 
entirely  mistaken.  Dolores  was  wide  awake, 
and  had  been  engaged  in  thoughts  and 
speculations  which  made  sleep  impossible. 
It  was  nothing  less  than  a  i)lan  of  escape, 
over  which  her  busy  brain  was  occupied, 
and  there  were  certain  difficulties  about  it, 
through  which  she  could  not  see  her  way 
clearly.  It  was  over  these  that  she  was 
puzzling  her  brain  when  her  attention  was 
roused  by  certain  strange  movements  in 
the  room. 

These  were,  lirst,  the  mov<.mcnts  of  Katie 
as  she  stole  to  ti:o  fireplace  and  Maited 
there. 

Secondly,  the  movements  of  Harry  as  he 
shuflled  down  to  Katie's  side. 

Thirdly,  the  prelii-  inary  whisperings  of 
Harry  and  Katie. 

Fourthly,  the  movements  of  these  two 
out  of  the  li-eplaco  into  the  corner  of  tlie 
room. 

Fitlhly,  their  continuous  whisperings, 
which  sometimes  were  so  animated  that 
they  might  have  wakened  any  sleeper. 

Over  all  this  Dolores  was  deeply  agita- 
ted. Who,  she  asked  herself,  was  this  vis- 
itor to  Katie?  It  could  be  one,  and  one 
only.  That  one  was  Ashby?  She  liad 
shown  him  the  way.  He  alone  knew  it. 
He  liad  promised  her  not  to  come,  but  he 
had  broken  his  word  and  had  come.  And 
why '{    Not   for  her,  but  for  his  English 


maiden!  Tlicre  were  these  two  now  jjlot- 
ting  and  whispering  in  her  presence,  and 
that,  too,  after  Ashliy  had  disowned  with 
scorn  this  English  maiden,  and  had  .spoken 
such  words  to  her!  What  could  she  do 
now  ?  For  such  outraged  love,  such  treach- 
ery, and  such  intoleraljle  insult,  wiiat  re- 
venge could  sufiice  ? 

Revenge!  Yes,  nothing  less  than  re- 
venge !  For  Dolores  was  not  one  of  those 
tender  and  sensitive  creatures  who  could 
lie  down  and  die  under  a  cruel  wrong. 
Her  ardent  Southern  nature  was  roused  to 
fury,  and  she  rer.iained  there  motionless,  but 
like  some  wild  beast  ready  to  start  from  its 
lair  when  the  prey  is  at  hand.  Away  now 
went  all  thoughts  of  flight  with  Ashby. 
Vengeance  alone  remained  for  her  to  think 
of — vengeance  full  and  completi,  which 
should  involve  both  Ashby  and  the  Eng- 
lish maiilen.  AVi.r.c  this  vengeance  was  to 
be,  however,  she  could  not  think  of  as  yet ; 
but  she  knew  that  in  order  to  make  it  as 
full  and  complete  as  possible,  it  would  be 
necessary  to  think  it  all  over  from  every 
point  of  view. 

In  this  amialde  frame  of  mind  Dolores 
was  thus  waiting  and  listening — stung  to 
madness  by  every  new  whisper,  and  n(nir- 
isliing  her  own  rage  all  tlie  more  every 
moment— until  at  length  she  became  grad- 
ually aware  of  a  sound  proceeding  from 
another  (piarter,  and  not  coming  from  the 
two  whisperers  in  the  corner  at  all.  There 
was  some  one  in  the  fireplace— some  new- 
comer who  had  approached  by  that  way. 
What  did  this  mean  ?  Who  could  this  be  ? 
Did  others  know  of  the  secret  passage-way  ? 
If  so,  then  her  surroundings  were  very  dif- 
ferent from  what  she  had  supposcil,  and 
her  wliole  course  of  action  would  have  to 
be  changed. 

Dolores  watched,  and  at  length  saw  the 
figure  of  the  new-comer  quite  distinct  in 
the  moonlight,  yet  not  so  distinct  as  to 
enable  her  to  ascertain  who  it  was.  The 
idea  was  so  firmly  fixed  in  her  mind  that 
the  first  comer  was  Ashby,  that  slie  cwild 
only  snjipose  this  new  v'-itor  to  be  one  of 
the  Carlists,  perhaps  "His  Majesty"  him^ 
self. 

Meanwhile  this  n(;w- comer  had  been 
stealthily  moving  along,  and  Dolofes 
watched  and  listened.  Now  was  the  time 
which  she  might  seize,  if  she  chose,  as  the 
time  for  vengeance.  If  this  were  really 
one  of  the  Carlists,  above  all,  if  this  were 
"  His  Majesty,"  she  might  have  sweet  re- 


102 


A  CASTLE  IN  SPAIX. 


vengc  l^y  clcnouucing  the  false  traitor  Ash- 
by  on  tlie  spot,  before  he  couUl  escape.  It 
would  be  sweet  to  see  the  distnay  of  tlic 
traitor  when  thus  discovered  inuler  her 
own  eyes.  Still,  even  in  that  hour  of  her 
madness  and  her  fury,  she  felt  tliat  before 
taking  the  irrevocable  step  and  denounc- 
ing Ashl)y  it  would  be  necessary  to  be  per- 
fectly sure.     So  Dolores  v;aited. 

]\[ean\vhile  Ashby  in  his  progress  had 
passed  L'.'yond  the  place  wliere  Dolores 
was,  and  iiad  traversed  more  than  half  the 
apartment.  At  this  moment  lie  was  at 
fault,  and  felt  anxious  to  know  where  to 
direct  his  way.  He  tliought  the  best  way 
would  be  to  try  first  if  Dolores  was  awake. 
And  so,  in  a  thin,  low,  but  very  distinct 
whisper,  he  said : 

"  Do-lo-res !" 

Dolores  heard  ii.  Well  she  knew  that 
in  tlie  castle  tliere  was  no  one  who  called 
lier  by  that  name— save  one.  Instantly  a 
wild  revulsion  of  feeling  took  place.  She 
luid  mistaken  —  the  first  visitor  was  not 
Ashby.  Ashby  was  not  false.  He  was 
true.  He  had  come,  but  he  had  come  for 
her  —  herself.  It  was  lier  name  that  he 
called.  In  that  sudden  revulsion  of  feel- 
ing she  almost  shouted  for  joy.  She  start- 
ed up,  and,  regardless  of  everything  but 
her  own  heart,  was  about  to  steal  toward 
Ashby,  wlien  suddenly  she  was  arrested  in 
her  attempt. 

There  arose  another  sound  from  some 
one  near  the  door. 

"  Here,  liere,"  said  a  whisper  —  "  here  I 
am.     How  long  you've  been  1'' 

Ashby  heard  this  voice,  and  thinking  it 
was  Dolores,  hurried  there.  Dolores  heard 
it,  understood  Ashby's  action,  and  sank 
down  in  consternation  and  despair.  Katie 
and  Harry  heard  it,  and  thought  it  Avas 
"His  Majesty''  on  his  way  to  ]\[rs.  Rus- 
sell. And  they  thought  that  otiiers  of 
''  His  Majesty's "  followers  were  in  tlie 
chimnoy. 

Ashby  saw  a  figure  dimly  defined  in  the 
gloom.  It  was  indistinguishable.  He  took 
it  l'(  1  Dolores.  So  he  folded  that  figure 
fondly  in  his  arms,  and  the  "figure"  recip- 
rocated to  the  fullest  extent. 

"  Oh,  my  own  love  and  darling  !"'  sighed 
Ashby,  in  Spanish. 

3Irs.  Russell  undcrpiood  not  a  word  of 
Spanisli.  She  thought,  however,  that  if 
"  His  Majesty"  could  exj  rcss  himself  more 
freely  in  that  language  it  was  certainly 
quite  natural  for  him  to  use  it ;  yet  it  did 


seem  rather  unfair  to  her  to  come  here  and 
talk  love  and  use  endearing  expressions  in 
an  unknown  tongue.  "  His  Majesty  "  seem- 
ed very  eloquent  and  strongly  agitatet], 
yet  Mrs.  Russell  could  not  make  out  what 
he  said,  nor  had  she  a  chance  to  explain. 

For  in  the  midst  of  all  this  there  occur- 
red a  new  interruption.  This  was  tlie 
sound  of  a  key  turning  in  the  door.  The 
door  opened  immediately  behind  Mrs.  Rus- 
sell, and  a  soft  voice,  said  in  familiar  tones 
and  in  a  husky  whisper: 

"  Whis-s-s-s-sht,  darlin' — are  ye  awake, 
thin!  Sure  I  hope  tlie  gyerruls  are 
aslape." 


CHAPTER  XXXI. 

IN  WHICH  THE  WHOLE    PARTY  FIND  TIIEMSIXVES  IN 
A  nAU.NTED  CASTLE. 

At  the  opening  of  the  door  and  the 
sound  of  the  voice  A.shliy  started  back  and 
retreated.  He  was  very  much  puzzled  at 
the  Irish  brogue,  and  could  only  think  that 
a  stray  Paddy  might  be  among  the  Car- 
lists.  However,  there  was  no  time  to  wait, 
so  he  sought  to  regain  tlu  fireplace.  But 
as  he  did  so  a  figure  came  in  his  way,  arms 
were  flung  about  him,  and  a  low,  fiiiut 
whisper  came  close  to  his  ear : 

'■Oil,  Assebi !  I  am  Dolores;  that  other 
is  Mrs.  Russell.     Fly,  or  you  are  lost  I" 

Here  was  a  new  shock  for  Ashby,  but  he 
did  not  lose  his  presence  of  mind.  Tiie 
new-comer  was  still  at  the  door.  lie  was 
not  followed.  All  this  he  noted  as  he 
stood  for  a  moment  or  so  holding  Dolores 
in  his  arms. 

As  for  Mrs.  Russell,  nothing  could  ex- 
ceed her  amazement  and  terror  when  "  His 
^Majesty  "  came  in  behind  her  at  the  very 
moment  when  she  supposed  herself  to  be 
in  "His  ^Majesty's"  arms.  It  was  unintel- 
ligilile— nay,  even  frightful. 

"  Weren't  you — your  ^lajesty — here— just 
now  ?"  she  stammered. 

"  Me  !  Us !  Here  ?  Divil  a  bit  av  us ! 
We've  just  come,"  was  the  reply. 

"  But  Vidio  was  it  ?     Some  one  was  here." 

"  Some  one  ?"  said  "  His  Majesty."  "  Oh, 
maybe  it  was  our  r'y'l  footstep." 

"  No — but  some  one  was  talking  Span- 
isli." 

"  Walkin'  Spanish,  yc  mane,"  replied  the 
august  monarch.  "  Sure  nobody's  been 
talkin'  Spanish  here  at  all  at  all." 


'JIK   TOOK    IT    FOR   UOLOKEii. 


A  CASTLE  IN  SPAIN. 


103 


"  Bat,  your  Majcstj',  some  one  was  here 
—talking  to  nic — close  to  me.'' 

"  Shure  it  was  one  av  the  gj'crruls." 

"  No  ;  it  was  a — a  man  !" 

"  A  man  I"  cxclaiuicd  •'  His  Majesty,"  in 
surprise. 

"  Yes." 

"  What !  here  in  this  room  ?" 

"  Yes." 

•'  Sliurc  ye've  been  drumiu' — so  ye  have  ; 
or  else — maybe  it  was  the  castle  ghost." 

'•  Tlie  ghost !"  groaned  Mrs.  KiissoU. 
"Oh,  your  Majesty!  Uli,  my  own  one! 
Oil,  save  me  !  Don't — don't  let  it  come 
near  me  !" 

And,  flinging  her  arms  around  the  royal 
person,  Mrs.  Russell  clung  to  it,  sobbing 
lystcrically. 

"  Shure — whisht,  will  i'cz,  or  yc'll  waken 
up  the  gyerruls,"  said  the  monarch.  "  I'll 
protect  yez,  if  ye'll  let  me,  so  I  will." 

"  Oil !"  said  Mrs.  Ilussell,  clinging  more 
closely  to  "  His  Majesty,"  "  do  you  hear 
that  ?" 

"  What  ?" 

"  That  noise  !" 

"  What  noise  ?"' 

''  I  heard  a  wow-wow-whisper  I"  sobbed 
tliu  lady. 

"A whisper — nonsinse  !"  said  "Ills  Maj- 
esty." 

"01i,li3tcn!'' said  Mrs.Russell, holding  him 
tiL^ht,  so  that  he  could  not  get  free.  At  this 
•His  JIajcsty  "  remained  perfectly  still,  and 
listened.  Tiicre  certainly  were  some  low,in- 
tlistinctsounds,amongwhich  were  whispers. 

"  Shure  it's  the  gyerruls,"  said  "  His  Maj- 
esty."    "  Tiiat's  what  it  is.'' 

••  Oh,  look  !  look  !"  cried  ^Irs,  Russell. 
"  The  ghost !  the  ghost !" 

And  witli  a  loud^  cry  Mrs.  Russell  fell 
liack.  "His  Majesty"  encircled  her  with 
the  royal  arms,  and  gently  deposited  her  on 
the  floor,  standing  thus  in  deep  perplexity. 
IJiit  at  this  instant  a  sight  caught  his  eye 
v.liich  made  him  start.  It  was  Ashby's 
tigure  traversing  the  room,  tlirough  the 
moonlight.  He  had  waited  up  to  the  last 
moment  and  had  just  taken  his  departure, 
but  as  he  moved  along  the  floor  toward  the 
diininey  the  royal  eye  saw  him. 

'•  Be  jabers  1"  said  "  His  ^lajesty,''  "  ghost 
nr  no  ghost,  I  must  sec  to  this.  The  cas- 
tle's haunted  as  sure  as  a  gun,  but  that  isn't 
the  figure  an'  farrum  av  a  maydoiayval 
i-'liost,  so  it  isn't." 

Mrs.  Russell  now  revived,  and  struggled 
"P  to  her  feet. 


"  Is— is— it  gig-gig-gone  ?•"  she  asked, 
with  a  shudder. 

"  Sorra  a  one  av  me  knows,"  said  "  His 
M:'.jesty."     '-rm  going  to  invistigate." 

"  Oh !''  wailed  ^Irs.  Ilussell,  "  leave  me 
not— oh.  Your  Sacred  Majestv,  desert  me 
not !" 

"  Shure  I'm  only  going  to  get  loights," 
said  '•  His  Majesty." 

"  Oh,  forsake  me  not !    Be  not  so  cruel !" 

"  Crool!  Ah,  be  ofl'  wid  yer  nonsinse!" 
said  '•  His  :Majesty."  "  Wliisht  now,  jool— 
sure  I'll  be  back  in  a  jitlV.  If  it's  any  one 
that's  got  in,  I'll  find  him  whin  I  como 
back  ;  an'  if  it's  a  ghost,  why,  it's  just  as 
well  to  know  it." 

"  Oh,  your  Majesty,"  cried  Jlrs.  Russell, 
"  do  not  forsake  iiie  !  AV'itliout  you  it  is 
too — too — too  horrii)le  !"' 

"  Shure  ain't  I  telling  ycz,"  said  "  His  Maj- 
esty," "that  I'm  only  goin'  to  get  loights, 
an'  that  I'll  be  back  in  a  jill'y  i  Be  (juiet, 
now,  an'  it  '11  be  all  right." 

With  these  words  "His  Jfajesty"  tried 
gently  but  firmly  to  disengage  ]Mrs.  Rus- 
sell's clasped  arms  from  about  his  neck. 
This  he  found  mucli  ditfieulty  in  doing, 
but  at  length  he  succeeded  in  getting  free. 
After  this  he  went  out,  locking  the  door 
Ijchind  him. 

After  about  five  minutes  he  returned 
with  a  blazing  torcli,  followed  by  half  a 
dozen  men,  who  remained  outside  awaiting 
his  summons,  while  "  His  JIajesty  "  alone 
went  in.  The  moment  that  the  door  open- 
ed to  admit  him,  some  one  came  rushing 
into  his  arms  with  such  violence  as  almost 
to  extinguish  the  torch  and  upset  the  royal 
person.  "  His  JIajesty  "  recovered  liimself, 
however,  and  uttered  several  ejaculations 
which  in  any  less  distinguished  person 
would  certainly  have  sounded  like  pro- 
fanity. 

"  Be  aisy,  now,  will  yez  ?"  lie  said,  in  a 
milder  voice,  "an'  howld  away  yer  arruins, 
jool,  till  I  invistigate  the  priinisis.  If  it's 
a  livin'  man  I'll  fix  him ;  an'  if  it's  a  ghost 
— begorra,  I'll— let  him  go." 

With  these  words  "His  Majesty"  suc- 
ceeded in  extricating  himself  from  the 
clutches  of  Mrs.  Russell,  and,  holding  aloft 
the  torch,  began  to  walk  about  the  room, 
looking  closely  everywhere,  Avhile  Mrs. 
Russell  followed  at  his  heels,  entreating 
him  to  take  care  of  his  royal  person. 

"  Arrah,  shure,  now,"  said  "  His  JIajesty," 
"we're  accustomed  to  danger.  We  don't 
moind  throifles  like  this — not  a  bit  av  it : 


104 


A  CASTLE  IN  SPAIN. 


"  '  For  (livil  :\  bit  iiv  mo  cnrc", 
I'm  leiuly  to  tackli'  tlui  fuo; 
Ifiillvf,  let  liiiii  ll^lil  ir  Ik:  diircp, 
iriic'H  iloail,  ti)  tluitlogM  lut  liiiii  po.'  " 

By  tliis  time  tlic  noise  iiiul  Uic  flamin.i,' 
torclii.'H  liiid  st'cmt'd  to  roiisu  up  Ktitic  mikI 
Dolores.  JJotli  of  tlu'so  now  stood  up, 
l)linkin<^  and  slirinkinj^,  clinging  timidly 
to  one  another,  and  looking  like  two  IViglit- 
ened  eliildren  just  awakened.  Tliey  seeni- 
eil  so  sur|)rised,  so  confused,  and  so  ter- 
rified, that  the  heart  of  "His  Majesty" 
swelled  with  i)ity  and  compassion. 

"Ladies!  jools!"  said  he,  "don't,  don't 
give  way.  Shure  it's  all  over  now,  so  it  is, 
an'  yez  needn't  he  a  hit  afraid  any  more." 

"What's  all  over?"'  asked  Katie,  in  a 
tone  of  alarm. 

"  What  i     Why— shure  nothin'." 

"  There  was  some  one  in  the  room,"  saiil 
ilrs.  Russell,  in  frightened  tones. 

"Some  one  in  the  room!"  cried  Katie, 
in  a  voice  so  full  of  terror  that  it  heeame 
n  positive  shriek.  "  Oh  !  oh  I  oh  !  Who  ( 
who?     What?  what?" 

Never  was  terror  more  elocjuently  dejiiet- 
cd  on  any  human  face  than  on  Katie's  ex- 
pressive countenance  on  this  occasion.  She 
flung  herself  into  Dolores's  arms  and  clung 
to  her.  Dolores  said  nothing,  but  clung  to 
Katie  in  silence. 

"  Alarrums  av  this  sort,"  said  "  llis  ^laj- 
csty,''  "isn't  shuited  to  their  delicate,  nar- 
vous  systems — so  they  isn't.  I've  got  a 
uhrop  av  whiskey  about  me,  if—  But  I 
suppose  they  wouldn't  care  for  it.'' 

With  t'lesc  Avords  "His  JIajesty"  ap- 
proached Katie  for  the  purpose  of  soothing 
lier,  or  of  jiaying  her  some  delicate  compli- 
ment, but  Katie  contrived  to  keep  Dolores 
between  herself  and  the  royal  wooer  till 
the  R.  W.  felt  batlled. 

"  Shure  it's  very  disthressin'.  so  it  is,"  said 
he,  as  he  turned  away.  "But  I'll  take  a 
luk  round." 

lie  looked  all  around,  walked  by  the 
walls,  gravely  peered  into  the  lireplaee, 
and  at  length  came  back. 

"  There's  no  one  here,"  said  he. 

''  But  I  saw  some  one,"  said  Mr.s.  Russell. 

"  Shure,  thin,  it  was  no  livin'  man  ye  saw, 
an'  there  ye  have  it." 

"  No  living  man  !''  screamed  Mrs.  Russell. 

"  Shure  no  ;  how  could  it  have  been  ? 
Wouldn't  I  a  seen  him,  an'  nie  wid  a 
loight  ?" 

"  Then  it's  a  ghost !"  said  Mrs.  Russell, 
with  another  scream. 


"  Divil  a  one  else,"  said  "His  Majesty." 
"  It's  the  castlo  ghost — only  I  tlou't  sec; 
why  he  came  in  nuxlern  cosehume.  But 
[)erhaps  it  isn't  the  castle  ghost.  It  may 
l)e  the  last  ])riso!ier  that  was  shot." 

This  last  suggestion  was  unspeakably 
horrible  to  Mrs.  lUisscll.  Well  she  knew 
who  that  ItiDt  prisoner  was  !  The  l((nt  pri.v 
ontr!  Oh,  horror  I  and  the  apparition 
was//.'  And  Jl  had  (Mime  to  /((/'.' — eni- 
braced  her ! — spoke  words  of  love  !  It  was 
y/c.'— her  once  loved  but  now  lost  Johnny  1 

The  thought  Avas  too  nuich.  With  ;i 
wild  yell,  she  flung  her  arms  around  "  His 
Majesty  "  and  fainted. 

"It's  mesilf,"said  " His Majcstj',"  i)laciil- 
ly,  "that 'lid  be  the  proud  man  to  shtay  hcic 
an'  watch  wid  yez  agin  the  ghost,  itut  juty 
calls  me  elsewhere."  As  he  said  this,  ho 
tried  to  detach  the  arms  of  Mrs.  Russell, 
who  now  clung  to  him  with  rigid  and 
death-like  tenacity.  This,  however,  he 
eoidd  not  do,  and  as  her  weight  was  con- 
siderable, he  gravely  seated  himself  on  the 
floor,  and  implored  Katie  and  Dolores  to 
help  him.  Tins  they  did,  and  their  united 
ell'orts  sucf.'eeded  in  loosening  Jlrs.  Itiis 
sell's  gras]).  The  stricken  lady  gave  ii 
gasp  aiul  raised  her  head,  but  "His  Majes- 
ty "  was  too  nimble  for  her.  By  a  desper- 
ate movement  he  withdrew  from  her  read:. 
and  stooel  for  a  moment  at  a  respectable 
distance. 

"Ladies,"  saiel  he,  "it's  mesilf  that  'iid 
be  the  ])roud  man  to  shtay;  but  there's  no 
danger  in  the  worrukl  —  not  the  laste  in 
loifo,  an'  this  lady  requires  \o\\v  care.  !^o 
I'm  thinkin'  I'll  be  oil',  an'  if  auythin'  hiip- 
pens  agin,  you  sing  out." 

Saying  these  words,  "  His  ^Majesty''  left 
the  room  somewhat  more  hurriedly  tlmn 
he  had  entered  it.  His  departure  com- 
pleted ISIrs.  Russell's  prostration.  For  tiic 
remainder  of  the  night  she  refused  to  be 
comforted,  but  remained  terrified,  lament- 
ing bitterly,  and  exclaiming  incessantly: 
"  Oh,  why  did  he  leave  uie  ! — why,  oh,  why 
did  he  leave  me  !" 


CHAPTER  XXXIL 

IN   wnicn    UAKUY   MAKtS   AN   UKPLEASANT    DISCOV- 
EllY. 

Hakuy  had  been  the  first  to  escape  from 
the  room.  He  had  waited  long,  fearin? 
lest  others  might  be  in  the  chimney  ;  hm 
at  length,  as  the  actions  of  the  new-comer 


A  CASTLE 

(lid  not  seem  cnnsislent  witli  those  of  a 
|)iiisuc'r,  lie  liad  coiichultil  to  risk  it.  lie 
li;i(l  tiu'ii  ciitcrcd  the  ciiiinncy,  iuul  wiih  aM" 
to  iViU'h  liis  own  room  iu  safely.  AHhl)y 
iiiid  not  left  until  the  very  last  moment, 
when  the  door  had  already  opened  to  ail- 
luit  '•  Mis  .MaJeHty,"  so  that  the  two  had  not 
met.  Hut  Harry,  on  reachinixhis  own  room, 
stood  lor  a  loiij;'  time  in  the  fiicplaee,  listeii- 
iiii? ;  and  as  he  listened,  he  felt  sure  tlial  he 
heard  HOiinds,  and  these  sounds  seemed  as 
thoni;h  mailc  liy  pursuers.  Upon  this  he 
fhuiLj  himself  upon  his  hed,  where  he  lay 
laotionless  for  nearly  an  hour,  until  it  seem- 
ed scarcely  possible  that  there  could  Ijc 
;iny  fiulher  daiij^er. 

He  now  thou<(ht  of  returning  to  the 
K.om,  hut  after  a  little  consideration  (h;- 
cided  not  to.  No  doubt  they  would  all 
he  awake,  perhaps  also  others  might  be 
there,  and  to  go  back  might  lead  to  discov- 
eiy.  and  destroy  all  further  chances  of  sec;- 
iiig  Katie.  Htill,  tlie  thought  would  not 
he  dismissed.  tSh'cp  was  impossible,  and 
ho  lay  awake,  recalling  the  events  of  the 
r.iglit. 

At  length  there  oecurretl  to  his  mind  the 
thouglit  of  those  Spanish  bomls  which  he 
had  found  and  hidden  away  so  carefiUly. 
He  had  not  visited  the  place  since,  or  ratli- 
iT,  he  had  not  looked  at  the  hiding-place, 
lie  determined  to  do  so  now  merely  for  the 
siike  of  reassuring  himself  as  to  the  safety 
of  those  precious  papers.  For  Katie's  fort- 
une lay  wrapped  up  in  tluit  jiarcel,  and  he 
was  anxious  that  he  should  be  the  means 
of  saving  it  for  her.  In  addition  to  this,  lie 
was  anxious  to  search  carefully  along  the 
passage-way,  to  see  if  there  might  not  be 
openings  which  had  thus  far  escaped  him 
—which  might  possibly  lead  to  the  outer 

MOl'ld. 

He  provided  himself  with  his  torch  and 
found  that  he  had  matches  enough.  He 
tlieu  climbed  up  into  the  passage-way,  and 
lighted  his  torch;  after  which  he  i)roceed- 
L'd  onward  until  he  reached  the  chink 
where  the  package  had  been  deposited. 
Here  he  stooped  down  and  held  the  light 
close. 

The  first  sight  showed  nothing.  But 
tlie  string  which  he  had  left  hanging  out 
was,  as  he  knew,  not  very  perccptiltle,  so  he 
licld  the  light  closer  and  felt  for  it.  Even 
tiien  he  found  nothing. 

He  now  thouglit  that  perhaps  the  pack- 
age had  fallen  by  its  own  weight  a  little 
farther  in,  drawing  the  string  after  it.    In 


IN  SPAIN. 


105 


order  to  fmd  whether  this  were  so  or  not, 
h  '  reacheil  his  hand  into  the  chink. 

No  .sooner  had  he  done  this  than  he 
siiat(;hed  it  awaj',  and  sat  there  staring. 

The  chink  was  very  much  larger  than 
it  had  been  before. 

There  was  no  doubt  about  this,  'i'hen 
it  had  been  barely  wide  enough  to  admit 
the  package.  Now  he  coidd  easily  tiirust 
his  whole  arm  into  the  opening. 

It  was  utterly  unaccountable.  Hy  some 
incomprehensii)l(!  means  that  cicviee  hail 
ijeen  cnlargeil.  The  whole  stone,  he  now 
saw,  ha<l  been  thrust  forward  several 
inches  into  the  passage-way.  It  seemed  as 
if  nolinng  short  of  an  cartlniuake  could 
sutlice  to  move  from  its  place  such  a  stone 
as  that.  In  itself  it  appeared  lo  be  of  vast 
size  and  weight,  and  below  it,  and  above 
it,  and  on  either  side,  were  others  ecpially 
vast  How  M-as  it  possiijie  for  such  a  rock 
to  be  thus  dislodged  i  I5y  an  earllniuake  ? 
Hut  nothing  of  the  kind  had  occurred.  He 
was  a  light  sleeper,  and  was  easily  aroused 
by  anything  unusual.  Could  the  castle 
have  "  settled  f  Impossible,  It  was  too 
old.  It  had  long  since  shaken  down  into 
its  deei)  bed.  Still,  old  buildings  do  often 
settle,  and  in  fault  of  any  better  exi)lana- 
tion  h(!  was  cumi)elled  to  ailopt  something- 
like  this. 

In  any  event,  there  seemed  very  great 
danger  that  tlie  package  had  been  lost. 
Again  and  again  he  thrust  his  arm  far  in, 
liut  found  oidy  vacancy.  Then  he  j)ut  his 
haiul  downward  as  far  as  he  could.  It 
touched  something  which  felt  like  a  stone 
pavenu'nt.  This  pavement  was  al)out  eight 
inches  lower  than  the  one  U])on  which  he 
was.  All  this  made  the  matter  still  more 
incom])rehensible. 

Hut  Harry  had  come  forth  to  .seek  after 
this  v(!ry  thing,  namely,  some  mysterious 
opening  into  a  side-passage,  and  after  the 
tirst  surprise  it  occiUTcd  to  him  that  this 
might  l)e  what  he  wished  to  lind.  And 
now  the  fact  of  the  stone  jutting  forth  be- 
came intelligible,  though  this  new  expla- 
nation jtromised  ill  for  the  safety  of  the 
package.  It  was  evident  that  this  stone 
was  movable,  and  afforded  iu  some  way 
an  entrance  to  this  passage.  It  seemed 
strange  that  so  vast  a  stone  should  be 
movable,  jet  there  was  the  fact.  Perhaps 
also  it  was  less  massive  than  it  .seemed. 
Perhaps  it  was  a  mere  slab  and  opened 
like  a  door. 

But  how  ? 


lOG 


A  CASTLE    IN  SPAIN. 


Uo  now  f'xmnincd  its  siirfaru  with  tlic 
most  ciirct'iil  imd  luiiiulc  scrutiny.  In  viiin. 
Over  all  the  suiiaci!  and  over  all  the  cdifcs 
there  wn"^  nolhinfr  that  inilicated  any  means 
by  which  siicli  a  stone  could  be  moved  - 
iiothi.iij;  of  the  nature  of  liini^^cs,  uml 
nothintf  of  tlio  nature  of  a  handle,  by 
wliich  to  L^rasp  it  so  as  to  move  it.  Yet  it 
was  movalile,  and  luul  been  moved  hitely. 
Perhaps  it  couUl  be  moved  without  any 
help  from  a  handle. 

lie  now  thrust  his  arm  through,  and, 
grasping  it,  pulled  at  it  with  all  his 
strength.  His  utmost  ciVort,  however,  made 
no  impression.  He  found  that  the  stone 
was  ma.ssivc  within  as  without,  tliat  it  was 
no  thin  slab,  but  one  which  his  arm  cotdd 
not  surround— at  least  eiL;htecn  inches  in 
solid  thickness  where  his  arm  held  it.  Yet 
the  stone  did  move,  and  had  been  moved. 
The  matter  became  now  more  ineomi)rc- 
hcnsible  than  ever.  It  conld  be  moved. 
It  had  been  moved,  yet  there  was  a  secret 
contrivance  here  into  which  he  could  not 
penetrate. 

Again  the  thought  came  to  him  of  the 
package  which  contained  Katie's  fortune. 
Some  one  had  been  liere.  Had  that  one 
found  the  package?  It  must  be  so.  Fool 
that  he  was !  A  second  time  had  that 
precious  package  Ix'cn  deposited  in  what 
seemed  a  secure  hiding-place,  and  a  second 
time  had  the  hiding-place  proved  almost  a 
public  thoroughfare. 

For  what  seemed  a  long  time  Harry 
examined  that  stone.  In  vain.  Tlie  wall 
arose  before  him  im]ipnetrable.  The  stone 
was  immovable.  Yet  that  stone  seemed 
now  to  him  to  hold  within  itself  the  .secret 
not  only  of  the  package,  but  also  of  escape 
and  of  libc-ty  and  life. 

Harry  at  length  felt  like  giving  up. 
Once  more,  however,  though  now  quite 
hopelessly,  he  examined  the  stone  in  every 
direction,  pressing  with  all  liis  strength 
upon  every  part.  And  now  in  this,  the 
very  moment  of  his  utter  hopelessness,  as 
often  happens — at  the  very  time  when  not 
expecting  it,  he  found  what  he  sought. 

At  the  extreme  end  of  the  stone,  more 
than  six  feet  from  the  crevice  where  he 
had  hidd.'n  the  package,  lie  pressed  upon 
it,  and  found  that  it  gave  way.  The  press- 
ure was  not  at  all  strong;  yet  to  that 
slight  clTort  the  apparently  massive  rock 
yielded  like  a  door,  and  moved  inward 
several  inches. 

lu  unspeakable  amazement  and  intense 


excitement  Harry  pushed  it  in  farther,  un- 
til he  saw  tlie  wiiole  move  in,  at  his  press- 
ure, for  aboiit  two  feet.  An  opening  was 
disclosed.  He  stepj)etl  in  and  looked 
around. 

He  found  himself  in  a  kiiul  of  eliamlicr 
which  was  aljout  four  feet  wide  and  eight 
feet  long.  At  the  end  of  this  was  a  stoui' 
stair-way  which  went  down.  Harry  looked 
around,  and  took  all  this  in  at  a  glance. 
His  tirst  thought  was  about  his  package. 

The  package  was  not  there. 

He  had  been  ])repared  for  this,  yet  the 
disajipoiutmcnt  was  I)itter.  Still  there  was 
consolation  in  tlu;  discovery  which  he  had 
made,  and  his  excitement  and  curiosity 
were  yet  strong.  He  naturally  turned  his 
attention  to  th;it  stone  which  I'ormed  so 
wondeiful  a  door-way,  and  which  had  .so 
long  baflled  him. 

He  saw  that  at  the  end,  near  the  crevice, 
the  stone  was  about  eighteen  inches  thick, 
but  that  it  was  all  cut  away  towaril  tiie 
other  end,  till  it  ended  in  a  slab  of  only 
two  inches  in  thickness.  One  end  of  tlii' 
stone  was  thus  a  vast  block,  while  the 
other  was  a  comparaiively  thin  slab.  He 
now  understood  the  whole  construction. 
At  the  thick  end  the  door  was  set  witii 
stone  pivots,  into  sockets  above  and  below, 
by  means  ol'  whicii  it  was  easily  movcu. 
Tiie  reason  why  he  could  not  nu)ve  it  at 
iirst  was  because  he  was  exerting  his 
strength  near  the  hinge,  or  pivots,  where, 
of  course,  it  was  thrown  away  ;  but  as  soon 
as  he  liad  touched  the  further  edge,  it 
yielded  to  a  slight  pressure.  Here,  inside, 
there  was  a  stone  handle  by  which  it  was 
easily  opened,  while,  outsiilc,  he  thought 
that  it  was  closed  by  swinging  it  as  one 
went  out,  so  that  it  went  by  its  own  weight 
into  its  place. 

After  all,  there  Avas  nothing  very  stranuo 
in  this.  Harry  hail  reatl  about  such  stone 
doors.  In  the  accounts  of  the  Moabite 
cities,  mention  is  made  of  something  ol' 
the  sort ;  and  as  those  have  lasted  for  tlne'c 
tJiousantl  years,  this  one  might  well  hu^ 
for  several  hundred. 

But  the  package ! 

There  were  no  traces  of  it.  At  the  hinuv 
end  of  the  slab  there  was  a  wedge-shaped 
stone,  by  inserting  which  here  the  door 
could  be  secured  against  opening  from 
witho'.t.  Into  this  wedge-shajied  crevice 
he  had  thrust  the  package.  He  saw  also 
that  in  pushing  it  far  in  he  had  only  se- 
cured its  discovery,  for  he  must  have  push- 


A  CASTLE  IN  SPAIN. 


107 


111  it  so  fiir  thill  tlic  first  one  who  ])asscd 

Ii;|i|  tillllKJ   it. 

\()W  who  coiilil  liiiit  hiive  Iiccn  I 

W'hocvtT  it  Wiis,  the  ))!U!]\aj,'o  was  gone. 
No  (h)iil)t  it  was  one  of  tliu  C'arlists,  wiio 
had  taUi'ii  it  to  their  Icaih.T.  It  was  jj;oiu' 
licyoml  all  possibility  of  recovery. 

Harry  hail  hecii  so  taken  ii|)  willi  his  cx- 
aiiiinalion  of  these  Ihinj^s  tiiat  he  had  for- 
gotten all  iihoiit  the  necessity  of  caution, 
lie  stood  (lien;  thus,  in  tli"Uj,Hit,  tiie  torch 
liii;,ditly  burning,  when  snihlenly  he  was 
roused  liy  sonic  one  rushing  up  the  steps, 
lie  darted  back  into  the  ])assage-\vay,  and 
hanged  tlu!  stone  door  after  him.  'l"oo 
late.  In  an  instant  the  ])ursuer  was  upon 
liiin  and  had  caught  at  his  coat  collar. 

Hut  Harry  was  not  th^  man  to  give  up  at 
tlie  lirst  attack,  (^uiek  as  lightning,  he 
drew  fortii  a  revolver  fiom  his  breast  jmck- 
cf,  and,  hastily  coiking  it,  tm'ued  to  con- 
front his  as,sailant. 

One  look  was  enough. 

"  Ashby  !"  he  cried. 

"  You  scoundrel  I"'  cried  Ashby,  in  a 
Inrv.     '•Scoundrel!  villain  I  traitor!" 


CHAPTER    XXXIII. 

IN  WMICir    rUKIlK    IS   A   VKIIY    rUKITY   (ifAI'.KKL. 

L\  order  to  account  for  the  strange  and 
bliockingly  rude  language  of  Ashby,  which 
must  be  as  astonishing  to  the  reader  as  it 
was  to  Harry,  it  will  be  necessary  to  go 
l);ick  a  little. 

You  see,  tiien,  my  dears,  immediately  af- 
ter Harry's  flight,  Ashby  also  had  hurried 
iiway,  and  had  reached  his  own  room  with- 
out further  adventure.  lie  now  began  to 
think  that  he  had  acted  with  mad  folly  and 
rceklessness  ;  yet  at  the  same  time  he  could 
not  bring  himself  to  regret  it  at  all.  He 
had  seen  Dolores,  and  that  was  enough, 
and  the  hunger  of  his  heart  was  satisfied, 
for  the  j)resent  at  least. 

Like  Harry,  he  had  a  sense  of  being  pur- 
sui.'d,  which  kept  him  for  a  long  time  on 
the  watch,  until  at  length  he  began  to  feel 
safe.  All  the  circumstances  of  his  recent 
iulventure  now  came  to  his  memory.  One 
tiling  amidst  it  all  gave  him  great  perplex- 
ity. Who  were  in  that  room  ?  There  had 
l)i'en  others,  and  he  had  heard  the  motion 
of  one  in  ])articular  behind  him — some  one 
who  seemed  to  bo  moving  under  the  chim- 
ney.   Then  came  the  arrival  of  "  His  Maj- 


esty." But  who  was  that  otlicr  one  ?  Ash- 
l»y  did  not  like  the  appearance  of  things  at 
all. 

After  a  time,  as  his  confidence  became 
restored,  he  Ijcg.m  to  think  of  going  back 
again.  Just,  as  ho  said  to  himself,  for  the 
sake  of  listening  at  the  chimney,  and  see- 
ing that  all  was  right.  I'utting  it  in  this 
plausible  way,  the  thought  became  too 
tempting  a  one  to  be  resisted,  and  at  length 
he  started  or  his  way  back. 

The  passage  way,  with  its  secrets,  had 
already  been  shown  him  by  Dolores.  It 
startcil  from  the  chimney,  and  after  a  few 
feet  came  to  some  st"i)s  which  asci  nded  to 
the  second  fh)or,  upon  which  wi.re  situati'd 
the  rooms  of  Harry  on  the  one  side  and  the 
ladies  on  the  other.  The  ste])s  thus  led 
upward  toward  the  very  passage-way  which 
Harry  had  been  traversing.  How  they 
ojx'iied  into  tliat  passage-way,  however,  has 
yet  to  be  ex])laiued. 

As  Ashby  reached  the  foot  of  the  flight 
of  steps  he  became  aware  of  sounds,  wiucii 
brought  him  to  a  full  stop.  Instead  of  go- 
ing back,  however,  he  waited.  Hidden  in 
im[)eiu'tral)le  gloom  at  the  foot  of  the  steps, 
he  could  listen,  and  then;  was  no  fear  of 
his  being  seen.  His  only  idea  was  that  the 
Carlists  were  closing  up  the  way. 

At  length  lie  noticed  a  faint  gleam  of 
light,  and  after  a  short  interval  he  noticed 
that  it  grew  brighter.  He  then  saw  the 
stone  door  oj)en  iinvard.  As  he  watched 
he  dill  not  move,  being  too  eager  to  know 
what  was  coming,  and  feeling  confident  in 
hi,s  own  obscurity. 

And  now,  as  he  watched,  lie  saw  Harry's 
face  suddenly  reveal  itself,  as  it  was  lit  up 
by  the  flaring  torch.  Yes,  it  was  Harry, 
and  tiierc!  he  stood,  examining  everything 
in  the  manner  already  described  ;  and  Ash- 
by was  a  witness  of  all  his  proceedings. 

As  Ashliy  looked,  there  came  to  him  a 
multitude  of  dark  and  gloomy  su.spicions. 
So  then,  lie  thought,  Harry  knows  all  about 
this  ])assago,  and  if  so,  he  must  know  where 
it  leads  to.  And  where  was  that  ?  It  was 
to  only  one  place — that  one  room  alone. 
And  what  would  Harry  want  there,  and 
what  would  he  find  i  He  would  find  her 
— Katie  ! 

Now,  although  Ashby  was  full  of  bitter 
resentment  against  Katie,  and  was,  perhaps, 
rpiite  in  earnest  iu  all  that  he  liad  said 
about  her  to  Dolores,  yet  when  he  had  this 
fresh  confirmation  of  something  like  an  un- 
derstanding between  tlicse  iwo,  he  became 


lOd 


A  CASTLE  IN  SPAIN. 


filled  with  the  bitterest  jealousy  ami  iiulig- 
nation. 

He  hud  already  felt  soiHetiiiitu;  of  these 
same  feeliiif^s.  lie  had  seen  Harry  with 
liis  own  eyes  ])ayin<^  devoted  attentions  to 
Katie,  tliounh  he  knew  that  Katie  was  en- 
gaged to  him.  It  was  this  which  had 
made  him  turn  away  IVom  her,  for  ho  had 
seen  that  she  was  false  to  hiui.  Yet  his  re- 
sentment against  her  did  not  lessen  his 
jealousy,  nay,  it  intensilicd  it.  He  regarded 
llarry  as  .nuilty  of  an  oll'ence  wliieh  was  at 
once  the  worst  and  the  most  unpardonable. 
He  had  been  false  to  his  friend,  and  that, 
too,  immediately  after  he  had  received  that 
friend's  fullest  confidence,  and  had  prom- 
ised that  friend  his  most  encr^retic  as- 
sistance. Could  anything  be  worse  than 
this? 

And  now  Ashby  saw  through  it  all. 
Harry  had  traversed  that  ])assage-way.  He 
had  Ijcen  in  that  room.  He  had  seen  Ka- 
tie. Of  this  he  had  not  a  doubt.  And 
what  now  ?  No  doubt  he  was  prowling 
about  to  try  to  find  some  way  out,  so  that 
he  mi^ht  escape  with  Katie. 

Ashby  watched  with  all  these  bitter 
thoHi;hts  in  his  mind,  until  at  length  he 
could  endure  them  no  longer.  He  deter- 
mined to  confront  his  former  friend,  his 
present  enemy,  and  meet  him  face  to  face; 
to  charge  him  with  his  perfidy-,  and  seek 
for  vengeance.  With  a  leap,  he  bounded 
up  the  steps.  Harry  retreated,  yet  not  so 
fast  but  that  Ashby  caught  up  with  him, 
and  grasped  him  as  he  was  tlyin.ff.  Then 
Harry  turned,  pistol  in  hand,  and  the  two 
stood  face  to  face. 

"Ashby!"'  cried  Harry. 

And  Ashby  cried  out: 

"Scoundrel  I  villain!  traitor!" 

His  face  was  white,  and  his  voice  hoarse 
with  passion. 

Harry  was  confounded. 

"  Hang  it,  Ashby ;  don't  you  know  me  ? 
Are  you  mad  ?" 

"  Know  you !"'  cried  Ashby,  bitterly. 
"Thank  Heaven,  I  do  know  you!  I've 
found  you  out,  you  infernal  sneak,  you  I 
Know  you  ?  Good  heavens !  yes,  1  know 
you  for  a  scoundrel,  and  a  conteini)tible, 
double-dealing  interloper  and  villain  !" 

Harry  stood  aghast. 

"AVhat  in  the  name  of  Heaven  is  the 
meaning  of  all  this?" 

"  You've  been  in  that  room !"  cried  Ash- 
by, pointing  up  the  passage-way. 
"^"Well,  whatif  Ihave?"' 


"  What  if  you  have  ?  Yon  know  what 
you  went  there  for." 

Thus  far  Harry  had  been  too  much 
amazed  to  understand  anything.  Hut  now 
he  l)egaa  to  see  what  it  all  meant. 

"  Oh,  ho  !"  said  he ;  "  so  that's  it  ?" 

"That's  it!  of  course  that's  it!''  cricil 
Ashby.  "  Isn't  that  enough  ?  sneaking  afti  r 
that  girl,  when  you  know  that  she  is  mine 
What  the  devil  have  you  got  to  say  for 
yourself?" 

At  this  Harry  began  to  rouse  himself. 
He  didn't  feel  like  defending  his  conduct: 
and  now,  as  was  natural,  took  refuge  in  a 
tight. 

"  Confound  you  !"  he  cried  ;  "  what  do 
you  mean  by  such  insults  as  these  ?  Who 
are  you  ?     What  business  is  it  of  yours  ?" 

"She's  engaged  to  me.  I  took  you  into 
my  contidence,  and  you've  turned  out  a 
traitor  and  a  sneak." 

Harry  drew  a  long  breath,  and  instantly 
recovered  his  usual  coolness. 

"My  dear  sir,"  said  he,  "you  have  ii 
pretty  talent  for  scolding.  Nature  evident- 
ly intended  you  to  be  an  old  won'.an  ;  but 
doesn't  it  strike  you  that  this  sort  of  thini,' 
isn't  customary  among  gentlemen,  an<l  tli;it 
you  are  making  an  infernal  fool  of  yourself,' 
Do  you  suppose  I'm  to  ask  yo".r  permission 
where  to  go  in  this  castle  ?  I  found  this 
passage-way  myself,  and  hope  to  find  oth- 
ers also.  And,  by  Jove !"  he  continued,  as 
at  this  moment  the  thought  of  the  lost  ]iar- 
eel  came  to  him,  "  there's  one  matter  I 
should  like  to  settle  with  you  before  we  go 
any  farther.'' 

"  We  shall  have  to  settle  several  mat- 
ters." 

"  I  left  a  parcel  in  this  place  a  short  time 
ago.  It  was  a  very  valuable  one.  I  should 
like  to  ask  you  if  you  have  it?'' 

"  I  ?    I,  sir  ?    I  have  your  parcel  ?" 

"  I  don't  mean  to  say  that  you  took  it 
knowing  it  to  l)e  mine." 

"  Oh  !  you  don't,  don't  you  ?'' 

"  Mr.  Ashby,  will  you  give  me  a  frank 
answer  to  a  fair  fpiestion  ?  Do  you  know 
anything  about  that  parcel  ?" 

"  Parcel '{  Pooh  !"  said  Ashby,  who 
thought  that  this  was  some  transparent 
trick  of  Harry's  to  account  for  his  i)resence 
here.  "  Confound  you  and  your  parcels !  1 
know  nothing  about  them.     I — " 

"  I  ask  you,  did  you  pick  up  that  par- 
cel ?" 

"  And  I  say,  confound  your  parcels  !"' 

Harry  was  growing  quite  us  furious  as 


A  CASTLE  IN  SPAIN. 


100 


Asliby.  ITo  now  felt  certain  that  Asliliy 
had  I'mind  it  and  had  it  in  his  possession. 
He  consiilcrt'd  Asliliy's  answers  us  palpaliie 
tvasions  of  a  direct  question. 

"Well,  tlien,"  lie  said,  "I  say  that  it' you 
still  kcup  that  parcel  after  I  claim  it,  that 
you  nre  keeping  jjroperty  that  is  not  your.s, 
and  you  know  what  that  means!"' 
Ashhy  ,trjiv(!  a  hitter  laugh. 
••  This  as  ii  hint  that  I  urn  a  thief,"  said  he. 
"And  a  ]>retty  stroiif^  one,  too,  I  rather 
think,"  said  Harry,     "Do  not  imagine  tliat 
you  Invve  any  claims  to  tliat  package  aris- 
ing out  of  any  previous  relations  to  a  cer- 
tain young  laily."' 

"A   certain  young  lady!  —  a  package  I 
What  do  you  mean  i     I  neither  know  nor  1 
care.     I  only  know  that  you  and  I  must ! 
settle  accounts  with  one  another."  j 

"IJy  Jove,  that's  one  sentiment  in  which 
I  agree !'' 

'•  If  I  hadn't  found  you  here,  I  might 
have  only  suspected  ;  hut  now  that  I've 
Inimd  you,  I  tlo  not  merely  believe,  but 
l.iiDW  that  you  are  a — " 

•Confound  you  !  if  you  begin  your  infer- 
nal abuse  again,  I'll  blow  your  brains  out ! 
I  haven't  got  vour  talent  for  scolding.     If 
y(ni  want  to  settle  accounts  with  me,  come 
liloiig  like  a  nnui,  and  don't  stand  here 
jawing  like  n  fishwife.'' 
"By  heavens!  that  will  I— and  here — " 
"  Here !  pooh  !    Come  along  to  my  room." 
••Lead  on— I'll  follow." 
At  this  Harry  led  the   way,  and  in  a 
sliort  time,  followed  by  Ashby,  he  once 
more  reached  his  own  room. 

And  so  it  iiad  come  to  this !  The  friends 
who  a  few  days  behn'c  had  been  so  inti- 
mate, so  confiding,  and  so  affectionate,  now 
>tood  face  to  face  as  foes,  glaring  at  one 
another  with  defiance  in  their  eyes  -and  bit- 
tir  hate  in  their  liearts.  Each  thought  he 
liad  received  sufHcient  provocation  to  seek 
tlie  life  of  the  other,  and  each  thought  that 
lie  had  received  from  the  other  insults 
which  could  only  be  wiped  out  in  blood. 

Harry  felt  sure  that  Ashby  had  found  the 
lockage  which  be  had  concealed  so  care- 
tiilly,  and  was  holding  it  on  the  ground  of 
'lis  engagement  to  Katie.  Such  a  right 
Harry  might  possibly  have  conceded  toKus- 
dl,  as  Katie's  guardian,  especially  as  he 
i:i(l  been  the  one  who  last  had  held  it;  but 
lti>  Ashby  he  never  would  surrender  it.  As 
or  Ashby,  his  bitterness  and  jealousy  have 
ready  been  fully  set  forth,  and  they  were 
;inv  more  intense  than  ever. 


Harry  stuck  the  torch  in  a  hollow  stono 
in  the  floor  which  appeared  to  have  been 
made  for  that  purpose.  Then  he  turned  to 
Ashby. 

"Now,  sir."'  said  Ashby,  "you  have  al- 
ready heard."' 

"No  more,  I  beg,"  said  Harry;  "not  a 
word.  Let"s  fight  like  gentlemen,  not  Jaw 
like  bullies.     Have  you  a  pistol ;'' 

"  No." 

"That's  unfortunate.  There"s  no  know- 
ing at  what  time  a  pistol  may  be  needed." 

"No,"  said  Ashby,  bitterly.  "If  I  had 
known  thtrt  you  would  prove  a  sconn — " 

"  Hy  heavens  I"'  roared  Harry,  "if  you 
don"t  shut  up  rU  put  a  bullet  through  you  I 
Do  you  hear  i  Come  now,"  he  continued, 
growing  cooler  ;  "  we've  both  said  enough, 
more  than  enough.  Hemember  that  when 
two  gentlemen  meet  in  mortal  combat  the 
time  for  insult  is  over.  We  have  no  sec- 
onds. Let  us  try  to  imitate  the  jiunctilious- 
ness  of  seconds  in  our  treatment  of  each 
other.     Do  you  consent  V 

Ashby  bowed, 

"And  now,  Mr.  Ashby," continued  Harry, 
"  as  you  say  you  have  no  pistol,  is  there 
anything  else  that  yon  can  suggest  ?  Have 
you  a  knife  f 

"  Nothing  but  a  penknife."' 

"Ah,  that's  very  unfortunate.  If  we  could 
only  get  hold  of  a  couple  of  rilles  from  our 
frienilshere  outside,  we  should  be  all  right, 
but  there's  no  use  in  hoping  for  that.  Our 
ransom  is  too  high  for  them  to  risk  losing 
it.  And  so,  as  far  as  I  can  see,  the  only 
thing  left  is  for  us  to  use  this  one  pistol  of 
mine." 

"  One  pistol  ?  How  can  both  of  us  use 
one  pistol  i" 

"  We  must.  There's  nothing  else  to  bo 
done."' 

Ashby  shook  his  head. 

"I  don't  sec  how,"  said  he.     * 

"It's  plain  enough.'"  said  Harry.  "We 
can  take  it  turn  about."' 

"  But  the  man  who  fires  the  fust  shot  has 
an  immense  advantage,""  said  Ashby. 

"Pardon  me,"'  said  Harry;  "that  docs 
not  necessarily  follow.  He  may  hit  his  foe, 
of  course,  but  the  wound  may  only  be  a 
trifling  one  after  all;  or  he  may  miss  his 
shot  altogether.  It  often  hai)pens  so  in 
duels.  Moreover,  as  you  very  well  know, 
in  a  duel  it  never  happens  that  both  fire  at 
the  same  instant.  One  always  fires  a  little 
before  the  other.  So  in  our  case  it  will 
simply  amount  to  this,  that  one  of  us  will 


no 


A  CASTLE  IX  SrAIX. 


I'm'  a  litllc  lic'foro  tlio  other.  In  that  (•iis(; 
tlio  lii'Ht  iiiiiu  iniiy  miss,  and  tlu!  sucuiul  iiinn 
will  tiioii  come  in  lor  iiis  turn." 

"  Hilt  liow  sliiill  we  deeidu  wlio  is  to  lire 
(Irst  r'  said  Asld)y. 

"Oil,  tlml's  easy  enoiiyli,"  said  Harry; 
"  \vc  Clin  toss  iij)." 

"Oil,  very  well." 

'■  Have  yon  n  coin  ?" 

"  Not  one." 

"Nor  I— not  a  coijpor,  even.  The  liej^'- 
;.jarly  Carlists  have  drained  nie  dry." 

"  We  must  tind  something  else,"  said 
Ashl.y. 

"Oh,  there  needn't  lie  any  dilHenlty 
about  that.  A  button  will  do  (juite  ns 
well." 

And  will)  this  Harry  cut  one  of  the  but- 
tons from  his  trousers. 

"This  will  do,"  said  he.  "The  faee  of 
the  button  will  be  'head,'  and  the  baek  of 
it  •  tail.'    Ami  now,  will  you  try  it  V 

He  handed  it  to  Ashliy,  who  took  it 
without  ii  word. 

"If  it  falls  'heads,'  the  first  fire  will  be 
yours  ;  if  '  tails,'  the  first  tire  will  be  mine." 

"  Very  well,'' said  Ashby;  and  then,  ])ois- 
inpc  the  button  for  a  moment,  he  t()sse(l  it. 

It  fell,  head  upjiermost. 

"  Heads  !"  said  Harry.  "  Mr.  Ashby,  the 
first  fire  belontxs  to  yon.  Here's  the  pistol. 
It's  loaded.  I'll  take  my  position  here. 
Shall  I  measure  the  distance  '."' 

"Pardon  me,  IMr.  Kivers,"  said  Asliby; 
"but  I  eannot  accept  this  from  one  throw. 
It  must  be  the  best  out  of  three  times." 

"  I  don't  see  wliy." 

"  I  sliould  not  accept  it  under  any  other 
conditions.'' 

'•Oh,  very  well.  Let  us  both  act  so  as 
to  satisfy  one  another,"  said  Harry.  "  In 
that  case  you  had  better  toss  ajicain." 

Ashby  now  picked  up  the  button,  and 
tossed  a  second  time.  This  time  it  fell  faee 
downward. 

"  Tails  1"  said  Harry.  "  Once  more,  and 
that  decides  it." 

Ashby  ])i(kcd  up  the  button  and  pave  a 
final  toss.  The  button  fell.  This  time  it 
was  in  Ashby's  favor.     It  fell  face  upward. 

"  Heads  1"  said  Harry.  "  It's  your.?,  Mr. 
Ashby.     "Will  you  take  the  pistol  ?"' 

Ashby  hesitated. 

"I  think,''  said  he,  "  wc  had  better  ar- 
ronjie  our  places.'' 

"Very  well.  At  what  distance?"'  said 
Harry.     "  Shall  we  say  twelve  paces  T' 

"  I  should  think  so."' 


I'lxin  this  Harry  bcL^an  by  the  nreplaee, 
and  walked  for  twelve  paces  along  tin 
lloor.     lU'aeliing  this  i»laee,  he  stopped. 

"Will  this  do^'  he  asketl. 

"  Ve.s." 

"Very  well;  and  now  which  place  A\il! 
you  take  i" 

••Hither." 

"in  that  case  we  must  toss  up  again  for 
clioicc  of  po.sitions.  Ijut,  first  of  all,  it 
will  be  necessary  to  move  this  torch,  so 
that  it  shall  lie  eipially  fivorable." 

Saying  this,  Harry  walked  over  to  tlu 
torch,  and  carried  it,  together  with  the 
st<ine,  to  u  place  which  seemed  about  miil- 
way  between  the  two  positions.  Here  Ik 
set  it  on  the  ground. 

"And  now,  -Mr.  Ashby,"  said  Harry,  "  \V( 
must  toss  up  for  places.'' 

"Very  well,"  said  Ashby;  "but  you  luul 
better  toss  this  time,  as  I  did  it  last  time." 

To  this  Harry  made  no  objection.  Ih 
took  the  button,  and  tossed  it.  This  time 
luck  w;;s  favorable,  and  he  won  the  choice 
of  positions. 

"  Well,"  said  he,  ''I'm  (juite  indill'erent: 
but,  as  I  have  the  choice,  I  suppose  I  may 
as  well  choose  the  place  out  there  in  tin 
room.  In  that  case  you  will  stand  here  in 
front  of  the  fireplace.'' 

"  Very  well,"  said  Asliliy,  who  thereupon 
took  uj)  his  place  there. 

"Have  you  any  plan  to  propose  as  tn 
firing  ?" 

"  None  whatever." 

"  I've  been  thinking  of  one  which  I  will 
mention.  You  may  have  a  belter  one.  Tin 
unarmed  one  shall  give  the  word,  or  drop 
a  handkerchief.  Will  that  do  i  If  you  pil- 
fer for  the  one  who  fires  to  give  the  woi'i 
— very  well.  Only  I  think  that  the  worl 
had  better  be  given." 

"Certainly,"  said  Ashby,  "and  I  qiiiti 
agreo  to  your  proposal."' 

"  Very  well,"  said  Harry ;  '•  and  now,  Mr. 
Ashby,  here  is  the  pistol."' 

Saying  this,  he  lianded  the  weapon  t" 
Ashby,  who  took  it  with  a  slight  bow,  Ini; 
in  silence. 

Harry  now  measured  off  twelve  pare- 
once  more,  and  reached  the  sjMit  which  In 
had  before  marked  out,  upon  which  lie 
turned  and,  standing  erect,  faced  Ashby. 

"  ilr.  Ashby,"'  said  he,  "  are  you  reail 
If  so,  take  aim,  and  I  will  give  the  won! 

Ashby  raised  the  pistol  and  took  aim 
The  weai)on  covered  Harry,  and  he  kiK'«' 
it.    lie  knew  also  that  Ashby  was  a  "deaJ 


'■  WHOKOO,  LADS !    Tills    IIATKS   TUK    \VOUULLI>.  .Si)    11    DOKS." 


nil 


A  CASTLE  IX  Sl'Air 


111 


sliot."  liiii  not  ft  nerve  quivered.  He  stood 
ii|)  there  an  Htruiglit  as  a  niinrod,  niid  then, 
ill  11  eiiliii,  rlciir  voice,  witli  lii.-i  UHiml  sell- 
[iDssr.Msion,  siiid  : 

"One;  two;  tliree.     Fire!"' 

l''i)r  II  iiioiiient  Ashliy  stood  witli  liis  uis- 
(iil  thiiH  eovcrin^  Iliiriy. 

'I'lien  iiirt  arm  I'eli. 

"I  cannot,"  .said  he  — "  l  eannot  fire,  in 
Odid  l)lond,  on  an  unarmed  man." 

Now,  had  Ashiiy  stood  llius,  \vitii  a  pis- 
tiil,  ill  lh(^  I'lill  iicut  of  Ids  lir.Ht  fury,  he 
wiHild  have  lired,  witiiout  Ht()[)j>in!,'  to 
tliiiik;  l)ut  the  efVcct  of  their  enlbreed 
cdurtcsy  to  iiw.  aiiotlier,  and  more  ])articu- 
lurly  oI'IIk!  somewhat  tcdioun  ])rdiminaries, 
had  hccn  to  calm  and  even  cliill  his  hot 
linger,  and  to  sululuc  all  his  ticrc(?  excite- 
iMcnt.  As  hi!  stood  tlicrc,  with  his  jiistol 
livclled,  and  sa'-  Harry's  cool,  calm  face, 
it  seemed  like  hulcliery.  He  could  not 
(ill'.  And  so  his  hand  droiipcd  down  with 
this  I'xclainalion. 

'■  Kilt,  my  turn  is  to  conw." 

••Oil,  that's  nothiiifi,"  said  Ashl)y.  "You 
may  have  ycHir  turn  now,  it' you  choose." 

••Oil  no,"  said  Harry, '•  I  can't  tak((  my 
mill  until  after  you  haves  lired;  and  the 
worst  of  it  is,  I  dcn't  see  liow  we  can 
settle  this  dilliculty,  if  we  don't  do  it 
now." 

'•Other  chances  will,  no  (h)ul)t,  occur," 
said  Ashliy. 

•'I'anloii  me,"  said  Harry,  "that  is  hardly 
jirohable,  and,  hcsidcs,  that  will  not  hel|) 
the  nnitter.  In  fact,  it  will  only  nnike  it 
worse.  For  you  see,  if  some  time  should 
(lapse  Itefori!  such  a  nu'etin<;',  the  recollec'- 
tinii  of  this  atVair  would  be  so  faint  that  I 
cDiild  not  L',<)  into  it  with  any  spirit ;  \viiere- 
a'^  now  I  am  all  cocked  ai\d  primed.  So 
lire  away,  my  dear  fellow,  for  I  really  don't 
want  to  have  an  affair  of  thi.'  sort  lianirintx 
over  me  tin;  rest  of  my  life.  We  nuist  have 
it  out,  and  now's  the  time." 

"  Will  you  not  lire  first,  iMr.Uivers?"  said 
Ashliy,  earnestly. 

'•Oh  no,  that  would  make  all  our  prepa- 
rations childish,"  was  the  reply.  "  AVe  have 
ii|ipealed  to  Fortune,  and  her  decisiou  has 
iM'ii  oiven." 

-Vshhy  drew  a  long  breath. 

".Mr.  Rivers,"  said  he,  "I  eannot  shoot 
nil  unarmed  man  in  cold  hlood.'' 

••  Ihit  what  can  we  lio  ?"  .said  Harry. 

"Why,  we  may  he  able  to  borrow  a 
('oiiplc  of  rifles,  or  even  one  rifle,  from  our 
fViends  here. ' 

8 


Upon  this  a  voice  ran;,'  out,  fuH  ami 
clear,  in  the  room  : 

"  Hc'^'orra,  an'  that  same  they'll  ilo. 
Whoroo,  lads  I  this  bates  the  worruld,  so  it 
does.  It's  mesilf  that's  stud  by  the  dure 
for  the  last  tin  minutes,  an'  Vsi:  seen  a 
Hoi^ht  fha«  1  won't  for;,'et  till  me  dyin'  day. 
It's  loike  the  toime  whin  tin;  Irish  exiles 
at  Fontenoy  marched  up  lo  the  Knylish 
fjyards  an' .said, '  (iintleinen  av  th(!  Kntdish 
(iyards,  fire  first  I'  15e;,'orra,  it's  mesilf  that 
'ud  be  the  proud  man  to  lend  yez  the  loan 
av  a  couple  av  f,'uns;  but  don't  be  alarrum- 
<'d,  darlints-aftlicr  yez  pay  yer  ruushont, 
ye'll  have  a  chance."' 

i^t  the  tirst  sound  of  that  voice  Harry 
ami  Ashliy  started  in  ama/.emcnt.  So  in- 
tent had  they  been  on  their  own  business 
that  they  had  heard  iiothiiii^;  and  Ashby, 
thonnh  faciiiL,'  'he  door,  had  been  so  niteiit 
on  Harry  that  In;  had  not  noticed  that  it 
had  been  half  opened.  Now  they  saw  the 
Carlist  chief  come  in,  foiloweil  by  half  a 
dozen  of  his  men.  Most  amazin^i  of  all  was 
the  discovery  that  he  spoke  Kiifilish  with 
till  Irish  br<);.jue.  Katie  had  already  men- 
tioiUMl  this  to  Harry,  but  he  had  not  tliou^dit 
much  about  it.  Now,  face  to  face  with 
"  His  ^lajesty,"  they  were  able  to  look  at 
him  with  other  feelin;;s.  Had  he  enter(Ml 
under  other  circumsfaiu'.es,  he  would  have 
talked  Spanish  ;  but  s(>  excited  was  he  that 
he  !)urst  forth  in  the  manner  above  de- 
tailed. 

•'  For  ye  see,"  said  "  His  Majesty"— 

"  'Mosllf  (Idp-i  ndmlrc  tlin  lirst, 

Av  nil  iIiiU'h  iinilliiT  llio  kuii, 
To  "tniiil  fiii;iii'  tli(!  fiiciiil  iiv  iiio  sow!, 

Will  IiIiiii(1<m1)Iis,  pisldl,  or  (,'Uii. 
Tlio  word  iiv  cominnnd  It  I*"  kIvpii, 

Tlio  weapon  wo  l)dlli  nv  uh  riiifcM, 
Aftlicr  wtilcli— Hnio  llii;  diio  lavos  for  liome. 

An'  offgoos  llio  oilier  lo  bln/.us  I'  " 


CHAPTER  XXXIV. 

now  TUK  viiiri()t;s   ki.sski.i,   unds  a  riuKsn  in 

NKKI). 

It  is  necessary  here  to  po  hack  for  a 
brief  interval  in  order  to  take  up  the  for- 
tunes of  one  who  some  time  ago  disap- 
peared from  these  jiages. 

The  virtuous  Russell  was  alone.  He  hail 
passed  a  night  which,  considering  his  situ- 
ation, had  not  been  altogether  uncomfort- 
able. He  had  slept  a  refreshing  sleej),  and 
in  the  land  of  dreams  had  been  able  to  for- 
get the  ills  of  life.     Morning  came,  howev- 


112 


A  CASTLE  IN  SPAIN. 


er,  nnil  with  his  -vvaking  tlioupfhts  there  re- 
turned tlie  recollection  of  tlie  past,  iuid  the 
full  consciousness  of  his  i)resent  position. 
He  was  a  captive  in  a  prison  IVoni  which 
lie  could  not  hop,'!  to  escape;  at  the  mercy 
of  a  powerful  and  cunninjj;  enemy,  who 
knew  his  secret,  anil  would  use  every  cflbrt  I 
to  get  his  money.  If  he  rifrained  for  the 
present  from  exertinn'  violence,  it  was  only 
too  probaljle  that  this  forhearancc  was  but 
temporary,  and  that  at  the  last  the  prisoner 
must  yieUl.  Tliese  were  gloomy  thoiitriits. 
and  the  good  Russell  was  well-nigh  over- 
whelmed. 

I5ut  the  greatest  calamities  are  often  alle- 
viatetl  by  comparative  tritles;  auvl  so  it  was 
a  trirte  which,  on  this  occasion,  served  to 
soothe  the  sorrows  of  our  sutlering  friend 
— such  a  crille,  in  fact,  as  a  mere  costume. 
Whetlier  it  was  that,  being  a  tailor,  he  was 
more  atfccted  than  others  by  his  raiment ; 
t)r  M'hetlier  it  was  that  a  man's  dress  has, 
as  is  claimed,  a  potent  intiuence  whicli  al- 
ways affects  the  wearer,  need  not  be  di.s- 
cusscd;  certain  it  is  that  just  now  it  was 
his  novel  attin;  which  chielly  engaged  the 
flioughts  of  liussell,  and  made  him  less 
sensible  of  his  misfortunes. 

As  a  dress  it  was  certainly  magnificent. 
Tiie  cloth  was  of  the  tinest  quality.  Gold 
was  lavisjunl  freely  upon  it — gleaming  in 
tlie  numerous  buttons;  shining  in  tiie  pro- 
fuse lace  which  glittered  over  the  bre  ist 
and  round  the  cuffs  and  round  the  collai  in 
a  Hood  of  glory;  s])arkling  in  the  hat 
band;  ilowing  down  the  skirts  like  the  oil 
from  Aaron's  beard.  IMany  a  time  had  his 
own  fancy  designed  and  his  own  liands 
fashioned  such  an  array  as  tliis  for  others; 
but  now,  as  it  mfolded  his  own  ample  jier- 
son,  it  slnme  with  new  lustre,  and  threw 
something  of  its  own  lustre  around  the 
wearer. 

And  now,  as  the  actor,  mIicu  arrayed  in 
the  robes  of  majesty,  assumes  a  kingly  ])oi't 
and  struts  about  the  stage,  so  our  liussell. 
He  took  to  himself  the  part  which  the  uni- 
form suggested.  He  felt  like  the  general 
of  an  army.  He  threw  out  his  thest,  stood 
erect,  strutted,  admired  his  figure  and  his 
gait,  waved  in  )iis  hand  an  nnaginary 
sword,  and  gui<led  invisible  armies  to  the 
field  of  l)attle. 

In  the  midst  of  all  this  ho  was  suddenly 
rouseil  by  a  slight  noise  behind  him.  Turn- 
ing hastily,  he  saw  a  woman,  who  had  en- 
tered bearing  some  articles  of  food  for  his 
morning's  repast.     lu    a  moment  liussell 


descended  from  tin;  lofty  heights  of  imag- 
ination to  the  (lull  realities  of  a  cold  world, 
and,  in  ))lain  language,  began  to  feel  rath- 
er sheepish  at  being  discovered  in  such  a 
frame  of  mind.  Nay,  this  very  frame  of 
mind,  this  new  sense  of  personal  dignity  us 
general,  made  his  chagrin  all  the  greater. 

The  woman  was  attired  in  a  i)ictures(]uc 
costume,  such  as  is  worn  iiy  tiie  lower  oi- 
ders  in  the  North  of  Spain,  with  the  addi- 
tion, however,  of  a  briglit-colored  turban. 
Her  ice  was  decidedly  hundsonie,  thougli 
ratlier  too  sharp  in  outline  and  (.'xpressioii, 
while  at  the  same  tinu;  decidedly  the  worse 
for  wear.  A  pair  of  fine  iiold  black  eyes  were 
fixed  upon  Kussell  with  an  exi)ressi()n  of 
undisguised  admiration  as  she  stood  look- 
ing at  him.  The  mcment  he  turned  she 
looked  thjwn,  and  then,  tlrop])ing  a  courte- 
sy, said : 

"  Breakfast,  sciior." 

Upon  this  she  dejMisited  her  tray  njion 
a  heavy  oak  table,  anil  then  stooel  lookinj; 
at  him  with  the  same  expression  as  before. 
There  was  something  in  all  this  which  wi\s 
ilattering  to  the  vanity  of  Kussell:  anel  he 
stood  regarding  tlu;  woman  with  vciv 
much  complaisance.  And  as  he  looked  ;it 
her,  he  thought  to  himself  that  she  was  a 
veiy  pretty  woman. 

The  woman  then  said,  still  looking  at 
him : 

"  Bcaut'ful !     Oh,  lovela  r 

She  spoke  in  broken  English ;  and  Rus- 
sell, while  fiattered  by  her  ailmiration,  was 
delighted  at  hearing  his  own  language. 

''Do  you  speak  English,  my  dear  ^"  he 
said,  in  a  tone  of  att'ectionate  familiarity, 
drawing  nearer  to  lier. 

'•  Oh  yes— me  speck  Tnglecs — me  in  Cub;i 
— learn  speck  Inglees — vara  mooch." 

"Oh  !  so  you've  been  in  Cuba,  have  you, 
my  dear  .  Well,  Cuba's  a  very  pretty 
country,  and  you're  a  very  pretty  wom- 
an." 

The  woman  smiled,  showing  rows  of 
splendid  teeth. 

'•  Sefior  mus'  be  a  gran'  noljile — a  gene- 
rale.'' 

Russell  smiled  a  lofty  smile,  and  laid  his 
hand  patronizingly,  yet  tenderly,  upon  the 
woman's  shoulder. 

"  You  arc  a  very  sensible  womau,"  said 
he,  "and  as  pretty  as  j-ou  are  sensible. 
What  is  your  name  V 

"  Rita,"  said  the  wcmian. 

"  Well,  Rita,  I  dare  say  you  and  I  shall 
be  great  friends." 


! 


^B 


A  CASTLE  IN   SPAIN. 


113 


"  Friends  !  oil,  senor  is  too  much  niagnif- 
ico — " 

"  01),  I  ain't  proud,  my  dear— not  a  hit, 
not  a  mite.  I've  got  plenty  of  money,  KiL.i, 
andean  iielp  my  frien;ls;  l)ut  I  ain't  i)roud, 
not  me.  And  what  may  l)e  your  particular 
duties  in  tiiis  establishment  i" 

"  Senor  ?" 

"  I  say,  what  Jo  you  do  here  ?  Arc  you 
house-keeper  ?" 

"  Senor,  I  am  maid— to  the  lady  prison- 
ers— an'  other  things — to  servar  and  at- 
tendar."' 

"  Prisoners,  ch  ?  Do  they  have  nmny  of 
tliem  here  ?" 

"  Oh  —  sometime,"  said  Rita,  with  a 
laugh  ;  "  ladies  and  gen'l'ms." 

Russell  looked  at  her  with  a  benignant 
smile. 

"Well,  Rita,  all  that  I  can  say  is,  it's  a 
pity  that  such  a  pretty  woman  as  you  can- 
not liave  some  Ijettcr  fortune  than  tliis." 

Rita  laughed. 

"  Ah,  senor,  you  a  flattera  !" 

"  Oh  no.  I'm  a  plain,  blunt,  Ijluff,  hon- 
est John  Hull.  Ri;t  the  fact  is,  you  are 
very  pretty,  Rita,  my  dear!" 

Rita  laughed  again  at  this,  and  her  large 
lilaek  eyes  fixed  themselves  with  bolder 
iuhniration  upon  tlie  benignant  face  and 
sjjlendid  dress  of  the  gallant  tailor. 

Here  a  happy  thougiit  occurred  to  Rus- 
sell's mind. 

It  was  evident  that  this  woman  was  al- 
ready an  admiring  friend.  Could  he  not, 
ill  some  way,  work  upon  her  so  as  to  at- 
tract her  to  his  interests?  Her  help  would 
lie  invaluable.  Slie  might,  if  she  chose,  do 
iiiueli ;  she  might  even  help  him  to  escape. 
It  was  worth  trying.  To  win  her  over  to 
Ills  side,  there  was  notliing  which  he  would 
not  try.  But  liow  could  he  get  her  help  i 
By  bribery^  Of  course,  to  ii  certain  ex- 
tent; but  it  would  be  well  to  be  cautious, 
and  not  offer  too  much.  Other  means 
miglit  be  used.  By  gaining  her  good-will, 
slie  would  be  more  accessible  to  a  bribe, 
and  would  be  less  exacting. 

Now,  Russell  was  sharp  at  a  liargain,  and 
liy  no  means  anxious  to  pay  more  than  he 
C(nild  help.  Even  where  his  own  liber- 
ty, even  where  ids  life  wa.s  concerned,  he 
paused  to  consider  the  expense.  lie  re- 
solved to  bribe  this  woman,  but  to  name  no 
price,  to  let  it  be  undecided,  to  agree  in 
a  general  way ;  and  afterward,  should  he 
succeed  in  gaining  his  Iil)erty,  to  cut  the 
amount  down  as  low  as  possible.    He  also 


resolved  to  put  money  out  of  the  (piestion 
as  far  as  he  could,  and  work  ujmn  her 
good-will  and  her  alleetions,  rather  than 
III  r  avarice.  The  woman's  open,  undis- 
guised utliiiiration  seemed  to  j)romise  an 
easy  con(|U('st.  To  him  she  appeared  to 
have  a  frank,  guileless,  impetuous  disposi- 
tion, all  of  which  was  a  great  help  to  the 
furtherance;  of  his  designs. 

Russell  looked  all  around. 

"  Oh,"  said  Rita, "  do  not  fear— all  away." 

"  Come,  my  dear,"  .said  Russell ;  "  sit  down 
here  by  my  side;  I  want  to  talk  with  you." 

Russell  seated  himself  on  an  oaken  bench, 
and  Rita  promptly  seated  herself  by  his 
side.  Sh(!  sat  l)y  him,  and  looked  at  him 
with  a  smile,  and  with  the  same  fervid  ad- 
miration. 

'•The  pretty  chi'd !"  thought  Russell,  as 
he  caught  the  glance  of  her  glowing  eyes. 
"  How  she  does  admire  me  I" 

''  So  you  are  an  attendant  here,  arc  you, 
Rita,  my  dear?"  he  asked. 

"  Yes!" 

'•  ]5ut  it  isn't  good  enough  for  such  a 
pretty  woman  as  you  are!"  he  continued. 

"Ah,  senor,  what  do  you  mean;"  .said 
Rita.     "  What  can  I  do  better  ?" 

"  But  you  ought  to  be  something  better 
—far  better.     Would  you  not  like  to—" 

"Like  what?"  asked  Rita,  who  was  full 
of  excitement. 

"  Well,"  said  Russell,  "  to  have  plenty  <>f 
money,  to  have  beautiful  clothes,  to  live  in 
a  beautiful  house,  to  have  jewels,  to  have 
amusements,  and  so  forth  ?" 

Rita's  dark  eyes  flashed  fire  with  eager 
covetousness  at  this  alluring  speech. 

"  Oh,  senor,"  she  said,  "  it  is  impossible." 

"  Rita !"  said  Russell,  in  a  solemn  voice. 

"  Senor !" 

"  Look  at  me." 

"  Si,  senor." 

Rita  had  been  looking  at  him  all  along 
]  fixedly  c  lough,  but  at  this  invitation  she 
!  threw  additional  earnestness  into  the  deep 
;  glance  of  her  bold,  dark  eyes. 
I  "  You  see  wdiat  I  ain,  Rita,  my  dear.  I 
I  am  a  prisoner — in  grief,  in  despair.  Now, 
if  any  one  would  help  me,  I  could  do  very 
much  for  that  one." 

"  You  arc  a  gran'  nobile  ?"  said  Rita,  in 
an  impiiring  tone. 

"  Oh  yes,"  said  Rus«ell,  in  his  large  way ; 
"and,  what's  more,  I  can  make  jou  happy 
for  tlue  rest  of  your  life.  I  like  you,  Rita. 
I'm  quite  fond  of  you.  You're  an  uncom- 
monly pretty  woman." 


I 


114 


A  CASTLE  IN  SPAIN. 


Saying  IIiIm,  Russell  took  Rita's  liaiul  and 
pressed  it  with  nuicli  emphasis.  Now,  the 
interpretation  wliieh  Rita  put  upon  these 
words  and  this  action  was  very  diliercnt 
from  what  Russell  intendeil.  The  benig- 
nant Russell  merely  wished  to  impress  u])on 
Rita's  mind  that  he  had  very  friendly  feel- 
ings toward  her,  and  that,  if  she  would 
hell)  him,  he  was  in  a  position  to  reward 
her  handsomely,  lie  diihi't  want  to  name 
any  sum.  IIo  wished,  for  obvious  reasons, 
to  leave  the  amount  unsettled.  But  Rita 
understood  it  ditlerently.  Being  of  a  sen- 
timental turn,  she  regarded  this  as  a  sort 
of  declaration  of  love — in  fact,  almost  an 
ofler  of  marriage — ami,  if  not  so  altogether, 
at  least  au  approach  to  it.  Still,  she  was 
a  shrewd  woman,  and  waiteil  until  Russell 
had  explained  himself  further. 

Russell  observed  her  silence,  and  was 
quite  satisfied.  It  showed  proper  caution, 
and  caution  was  an  excellent  quality  in  one 
whom  he  wished  to  have  for  a  helper  in  his 
need.  So  he  went  on  in  the  same  way,  still 
holding  Rita's  hand. 

''Yon  are  so  pretty,  Rita,  my  dear,  I 
swear  I  never  before  saw  such  a  pretty 
■woman.  This  isn't  the  place  for  you.  You 
must  get  out  of  this;  and  if  you  will  only 
go  away  with  mc,  why,  there's  nothing  that 
I  wouldn't  do  for  you.  AViien  I  like  a  per- 
son, I'm  ready  to  do  anything  for  them. 
And  tiie  lirst  moment  I  saw  you,  1  said  to 
myself,  '  There's  the  woman  for  you  !' " 

"  Am  I  really  the  woman  for  you  ?"  asked 
Rita,  full  of  excited  hopes,  and  still  con- 
tinuing to  misinterpret  his  words. 

"The  very  one!"  said  Russell.  "The 
one  of  all  others !  Heaven  has  sent  you  to 
me.     Rita,  my  dear,  do  what  I  ask  !"' 

Rita  was  deeply  moved.  This  brilliant, 
wealthy  stranger  seemed  to  love  her.  He 
wanted  her  to  fly  with  him.  But,  oh,  if  he 
should  prove  false  I" 

"  Ah,  senor,  you  not  earnest — you  not 
true !"  said  Rita,  clasping  his  hand  in  both 
of  hers. 

"  True  !  earnest !"  cried  Russell.  "  I 
swear,  Rita,  my  dear,  I  will  lie  true  to  Avhat 
I  say — always,  always !  Can't  you  trust  me, 
Rita,  my  deari"' 

"Oh,  senor,"  sighed  Rita,  deeply  moved, 
"you  persuade  me  too  easy.  And  think 
on  the  danger — the  life  is  risk — the  death 
will  come  if  we  are  captura." 

"  Rita,  my  dear,"  said  Russell,  "  let  us 
not  talk  of  danger.  Let  us  fly  together.  I 
will  always  remember  your  devotion.     I 


will  never  forget  you  as  long  as  life  lusts. 
I  am  noted  for  my  truth  and  fldelity.  I've 
got  a  warm  and  throbbing  lieart.  And 
now,  Rita,  my  dear,  if  you  want  one  who 
will  always  be  yours  truly — if  you  want 
one  who  will  love  you  and  care  for  you — 
why,  I'm  your  man  !" 

Upon  these  words  Rita  put,  as  usual,  her 
own  interpretation.  The  last  words  espe- 
cially— "  I'm  your  man  " — seemed  to  her 
to  be  the  most  direct  ofl'er  yet. 

"  Jly  man  i"  she  said — '•  and  will  you  l)e 
my  man,  senor  ?" 

"  Of  course — of  course,"  said  Russell,  not 
conq)reheriding  her  drift. 

Upon  this  liita  flung  her  arms  around 
the  neck  of  the  astonished  Russell. 

"  Oh,  senor — then — I  helpa  you.  I  yours 
— I  do  all.  "We  fly — you  be  true— to  your 
Rita." 

Russell  was  so  astonished  that  for  some 
time  he  saiil  nothing;  but  feeling  how  ini- 
])ortant  it  was  to  retain  her  friendship,  he 
did  not  dare  to  disal)use  her  of  her  i'alsc 
idea;  nay,  he  even  felt  that  it  would  be 
better  for  her  to  entertain  it  since  she  hail 
it.  So  he  put  his  arm  around  her  and  kiss- 
ed her. 

Suddenly  Rita  started  up. 

"  I  mus'  go,"  she  said.  "  I  will  soon  re- 
turn." 

And  with  these  Avords  she  liurriedly  re- 
treated, leaving  Russell  to  his  breakfast 
and  his  meditations. 

Russell  had  been  very  successful  in  his 
attempt  to  win  over  Rita  to  his  interests; 
in  fact,  too  successful.  His  success  caused 
him  at  flrst  not  a  little  perplexity.  Rita, 
he  perceived,  had  misunderstood  him  ;  but 
then,  in  making  friendly  advances  to  a 
woman  who  was  not  very  well  up  in  the 
English  language,  it  was  next  to  impossi- 
ble to  preserve  those  nice  and  delicate 
shades  of  meaning  which  he  had  intended. 
Upon  the  whole,  liowever,  after  mature 
consideration,  he  concluded  that  it  had  all 
turned  out  for  the  best. 

It  was  evident  that  this  woman  hiul 
formed  a  very  strong  attachment  for  him. 
Very  well.  She  would  be  all  tlie  more  do- 
voted  to  his  interests,  and  turn  all  Iut 
thoughts  and  energies  toward  securing  liis 
escape.  Things  could  not  have  turned  out 
better.  He  had  not  intended  it,  but  if  Rit;t 
chose  to  misunderstand  him,  why  should 
he  try  to  undeceive  her?  The  more  sliu 
cared  for  him,  the  better  it  would  be  for 
him.     And  thus  Russell,  out  of  his  self- 


A  CASTLE  IN  SPAIN. 


115 


i3h  desires  for  Ins  own  safety,  allowed  liim- 
self  to  trltle  willi  the  heart's  best  atlVctlons. 
and  bej^nille  jjoor  Hita,  and  allure  her  with 
hopes  that  could  never  he  realized. 

After  all,  however,  there  were  ja;rave  oh- 
stacles  in  his  way.  Could  he  desert  his 
wife  and  leave  her  in  such  peril  ?  Or, 
worse,  could  he  leave  those  precious  bonds, 
which  he  had  so  carefully  hidden?  If  he 
did,  he  might  never  see  them  again. 

Was  it  possible  to  get  them  iK'fore  leav- 
ing ?  Would  it  he  safe  to  tell  liita,  and 
direct  her  to  get  them  ibr  him?  This 
thought  occupied  him  for  some  time,  and 
he  almost  made  up  his  mind  to  do  so.  13ut 
tiic  risk  was  too  great.  After  all,  Rita 
might  be  a  spy  in  the  interests  of  "  His 
Majeaiy,''  and  sent  to  worm  liis  secret  out 
of  him.  No,  it  wouhl  not  be  safe.  It  would 
be  safer  to  leave  the  bonds  where  they 
were.  If  he  escaped,  he  might  hope  to  ol)- 
tiiin  assistance  from  the  Government,  in 
which  case  he  might  be  able  to  come  back 
with  them,  to  show  them  the  way,  and 
du'U,  when  the  castle  was  rccajjtured,  he 
might  be  able  to  regain  his  treasure.  And 
so  he  decided  finally  upon  this  course. 

At  midday  Hita  returned,  bringing  his 
dinner,  a  savory  vUn  podrida.  She  set  it 
down,  and  then  thrcv/  her  arms  around  the 
embarrassed  Russell,  who  was  seated  on  the 
bench,  murmuring  words  of  endearment  in 
unintelligil)le  Spanish.  Ho  bore  it  well, 
liowever,  and,  remembering  his  necessities, 
lie  tried  to  exhibit  those  feelings  which 
might  be  expected  from  him. 

Rita  this  time  Jiad  a  bundle  with  her, 
which  she  gave  to  Russell,  directing  him  to 
liide  it  under  the  bench  for  the  present. 

"You  mus'  disguisar,"  she  said;  "this 
is  a  woman  dress — " 

"A  woman's  dress  ?" 

"  Oh,  no  difRcolta.  Yon  wait  till  avenin', 
then  you  put  liim  on,  ofer  your  niilitar  coat 
—just  as  you  stands.  Alia  right ;  then  y<ui 
(lisguisado,  and  commalong  me.  I  he  nlla 
ready.  Yon  waita  form  mi.  But  not  you 
put  him  on  till  avenin',  or  mighta  be  dis- 
covaire,  you  know.     Ha,  seuor  ?" 


CHAPTER    XXXV. 

IN  wincn  TWO  fugitives  havk  a  stautling  ad- 
venture, NOT  without  peril. 

EvENiNo  came,  and  Russell,  with  Rit.i's 
assistance,  put  on  the  woman's  dress  over 
liis  general's  uniform.     The  skill  of  Rita 


was  exerted  to  give  her  companion  the  ap- 
pearance of  a  female  somewhat  stricken  in 
years,  and  her  success  was  marked.  Per- 
haps it  was  this  very  success  that  affected 
the  soul  of  Russell;  for  no  sooner  did  he 
look  like  an  old  woman  than  he  began  to 
feel  and  act  like  one.  Away  went  all  his 
courage,  and  he  would  have  drawn  back 
after  all,  had  not  Rita  urged  and  almost 
forced  him  away. 

"  Allarighta,"  she  said.  "The  men  all 
gone  insidar,  and  so  ongry  they  think  of 
ony  the  eaters.  So  come,  my  dear.  No 
one  shall  see.  You  be  trust  to  niyselfa — 
an'  we  go  like  snake  in  the  grasses." 

Russell  thus  allowed  himself  to  be  hur- 
ried away  by  his  bolder  companion  on  the 
l)ath  that  led  to  liberty.  Rita  led  the  way 
out  into  the  upper  hall,  and  Itussell  fol- 
lowed, not  without  great  trepidation,  and 
bitter  regret  at  his  rashness,  cxi)ecting  at 
every  step  to  see  "His  ^lajesty,''  and  of 
course  to  be  arrested  and  flung  into  some 
deep,  dark  dungeon.  One  or  two  men 
were  there,  who,  however,  took  no  notice 
of  them. 

After  this  they  descended  the  stairs  and 
entered  the  lower  hall.  Here,  to  the  im- 
mense dismay  of  Russell,  he  l)eheld  what 
seemed  to  l)e  the  entire  Carlist  band.  It 
was  their  feeding-time.  A  huge  pot  was 
in  the  middle  of  tlie  hall,  and  these  men 
were  dipping  out  of  it  their  respective  por- 
tions of  some  savory  mess  whose  odor  filled 
the  air.  Russell  shrunk  down  almost  into 
his  boots  at  the  first  sight ;  but  as  Rita 
walked  along,  he  had  no  alternative  except 
to  follow  her.  Little  danger  was  there, 
however,  of  his  being  observed.  All  the 
men  were  too  intent  upon  tlieir  evening 
meal  to  notice  what  seemed  like  two  very 
connnonplace  women  who  probably  be- 
longed to  the  castle.  And  thus  Russell,  to 
his  unspeakable  relief,  jmssed  through  this 
ordeal  unquestioned  and  even  unnoticed. 

Having  ))asscd  through  the  lower  hall, 
they  emerged  into  the  outer  court-yard. 
Here,  as  he  passed  through  the  door,  Rus- 
sell was  just  drawing  a  long  breath,  and 
thinking  within  himself  that  the  worst  was 
over,  when  suddenly,  without  any  warning, 
there  ap]iroj;''ied  them  no  less  a  personage 
than  "His  Majesty"  himself — the  very  last 
man,  as  it  is  needless  to  say,  whom  Russell 
would  have  chosen  to  meet.  At  that  sight 
the  soul  of  Russell,  which  had  been  slowly 
struggling  upward,  once  inorr>  sank  down 
into  his  boots,  carrying  down  with  it  all 


IIG 


A  CASTLE  IN  SPAIN, 


hope,  d  all  desire,  and  almost  all  con- 
sciousi.  89. 

Then;  was  not  the  slightest  clianec  of 
avoidinj^  him.  He  was  coming  straigiit 
toward  them.  What  was  worse,  his  eyes 
were  (ixcd  upon  tiiein. 

"All.  Kita,"  said  "  His  Majesty"  in  Span- 
ish, "  where  are  you  going  in  the  dark  ?" 

Kita  i)aused  and  made  a  low  obeisance, 
liiissell  did  tlie  same. 

"  I'm  going  over  there  to  see  about  some 
washing,"  said  Kita. 

"  Ah  ha !"  said  "  His  Majesty,"  "  if  you 
only  were  going  alone  I  sliould  say  that 
some  Ijrave  boy  was  intending  to  help  you 
at  your  washing.  But  you  have  a  friend 
with  you." 

Saying  these  words,  "  His  Majesty"  look- 
ed hard  at  the  shrinking  Kussell,  who  now 
felt  his  soul  all  oozing  out  at  tlie  scams  of 
his  boots.  He  stood  trembling,  shrinking, 
expecting  the  worst. 

But  Kita  was  equal  to  the  occasion. 

'•  Oh,  this  is  my  aunt,"  said  she,  "  that  I 
told  you  about.  I  asked  her  to  come  here 
and  help  me.  She's  a  little  rheumatic,  be- 
ing old,  but  she  can  do  a  good  turn  at  hard 
work  yet ;  and  she's  a  good  cook,  too,  and 
she  can  spin  well — oh,  beautifully ;  and  she 
is  a  wonder  in  her  way.  Oh,  we  sliall  have 
a  better  olla  jwdrida  than  you  ever  tasted 
wlien  the  good  old  aunt  goes  to  work." 

"  Your  aunt — ah  i"  said  '•  His  ]\[ajesty." 
in  a  tone  that  savored  of  disappointment. 
"H'm — well,  Kita,  the  next  time  you  want 
help  don't  send  for  any  of  your  aunts,  but 
send  for  some  one  of  your  nieces.  They  will 
be  far  more  Avclcomo  in  a  lonely  place  like 
this.  0/la  podru/as  are  all  very  well,  no 
doubt,  but  what  I  should  prefc  r  would  be 
some  one  who  could  touch  the  guitar,  and 
sing  a  lively  song." 

And  with  these  words  "  His  Slajesty " 
retired. 

"Come,"  said  Rita  to  the  almost  sense- 
less Kussell.     "  Come." 

Again  Kussell  followed  her.  She  led  the 
way  toward  an  archway  in  the  wall  on  one 
side  of  the  court-yard.  Entering  this,  they 
found  tliemselves  in  an  arched  room,  in 
which  it  was  difficult  to  sec  through  the 
dim  twilight.  But  to  Kita  the  way  seemed 
quite  familiar,  for  she  walked  on  and  told 
Russell  to  follow  without  fear.  At  length 
she  stopped,  and  as  Russell  came  up  to  her, 
she  said : 

"  We  descenda — steps  does  be  here — I 
takes  your  hand  and  helps." 


She  took  his  hand,  and  began  to  de- 
scend. With  this  assistance  Kussell  was 
able  to  follow  without  nuich  difficulty. 
Soon  it  became  quite  dark,  and  continued 
so  for  some  time,  during  which  Kita  led 
him  onward  as  quickly  as  possible.  At 
length  she  paused. 

"  You  mus'  be  careful,"  she  said  ;  "  hero 
is  the  steps  brokes,  an'  you  shall  go  slow— 
and  not  slips." 

It  was  so  dark  here  that  Kussell  could 
see  nothing ;  but  he  felt  that  Kita  was  de- 
scending, so  he  prepared  to  follow.  The 
steps  here  had  been  broken  in  places,  leav- 
ing a  rough,  inclined  i)lane,with  loose  stones 
and  mortar.  There  was  no  great  difficulty 
in  descending,  but  it  was  dark,  and  Kiis- 
sell's  long  skirts  were  very  much  in  the 
way.  However,  by  moving  slowly,  and  by 
exercising  great  caution,  he  was  able  to 
reach  the  bottom  without  any  accident. 

Here  Kita  took  his  hand  and  again  leii 
him  on.  It  now  began  to  grow  lighter, 
until  at  last  objects  were  plainly  discern- 
ible. The  light  was  caused  by  the  moon- 
beams, which  slionc  in  through  a  place 
where  the  outside  wall  was  broken  away. 
Looking  through  the  opening,  Kussell  saw, 
not  far  distant,  a  precipice,  with  bits  of 
shrubbery  here  and  there.  Soon  they  caniu 
to  the  opening  itself. 

He  found  himself  on  the  verge  of  a  dec]) 
chasm,  the  very  one  already  mentioned. 
Above  the  opening  projected  part  of  what 
had  once  been  a  bridge,  but  which  hiid 
long  since  fidlen.  On  the  cpposite  side  was 
the  tower  wdiere  Brooke  ani  Talbot  had 
found  refuge.  Tiie  bridge  had  once  crossed 
to  the  tower,  and,  since  it  had  fallen,  this 
opening  had  been  made,  from  which  tlu' 
chasm  could  be  crossed  by  descending  on 
one  side  and  ascending  the  other.  Tlio 
slope  was  steep  and  rough.  Kussell,  as  ln' 
looked  down,  could  not  see  any  chance  of 
farther  progress  in  this  direction. 

"  We  mus'  go  down  here,"  said  Kita. 

"  Here  ?"  said  Kussell.  "  How  ?  I  can't 
go  down !" 

"  Oh,  it  is  easy ;  you  mus'  follow.  I  sho'.r 
the  ways,"  said  Kita ;  and,  saying  this,  sin. 
stepped  down  from  the  opening  upon  ii 
ledge  of  rock.  Then  turning  to  the  right, 
she  went  on  for  a  pace  or  two  and  turncil 
for  Russell.  Seeing  her  walk  thus  far  witli 
case  and  in  safety,  he  ventured  after  her. 
The  ledge  was  wide  enough  to  walk  on 
without  difficulty;  and,  although  the  chasm 
was  deep,  yet  the  side  did  not  run  down 


A  CASTLE  IN  SPAIN. 


117 


steeply  enough  to  make  him  feel  unything 
like  gidcUness.  The  pathway  was  easy 
enough  when  one  had  a  guide  to  sliow  the 
way;  and  tlius  Russell,  Ibllowing  closely 
behind  Hita,  readied  the  bottom.  Tiien, 
crossing  the  brooi<,  she  led  tlie  way  up  on 
tlie  opposite  side  by  the  patli  already  men- 
tioned, and  at  length  butli  readied  the 
tower,  and  paused  to  take  breath. 

Tiius  far  no  alarm  hail  been  given  in  the 
castle.  Every  step  increased  liusseU's  con- 
lidence,  and  uhen  he  gained  the  tower  he 
felt  sure  of  escape.  But  to  wait  liere  long 
was  not  to  be  tliought  of;  so,  after  a  few 
moments  spent  in  regaining  breath,  the 
two  set  forth  to  continue  tlieir  llight. 

At  length,  after  a  faliguing  journey,  they 
reached  tlie  main  road,  and  liere  tliey 
turned  toward  tlie  soutii,  in  whidi  direc- 
tion thoy  went  for  some  miles. 

They  bad  now  been  walking  for  many 
hours,  and  Russell,  who  was  quite  unused 
to  any  exercise  of  this  sort,  was  greatly 
fitigued.  Nothing,  indeed,  but  the  dread 
of  capture  and  the  thought  of  a  merciless 
pursuer  on  his  track  had  kept  him  up  so 
long.  He  felt  tiiat  he  had  readie<l  the  ut- 
most limit  of  his  strength. 

At  last  tliey  cauglit  sight  of  a  windmill 
in  a  field  on  the  rigid.  Tlie  sight  enlivened 
him.  Here,  he  thought,  they  niiglit  hide 
and  obtain  rest.  He  said  this  to  Uita.  She 
acquiesced.  To  gain  the  windmill  was  now 
their  chief  desire. 

Nearer  they  came,  and  nearer. 

But  now,  just  when  all  seemed  gained, 
they  saw  a  numl)cr  of  arm''d  men  coming 
toward  them,  and  in  a  few  minutes  they 
were  arrested  by  the  followers  of  Lopez. 


CHAPTER  XXXVT. 

now    DANaKRS    TIIICKKN    AROUND    THE    DESPAIRING 
RISSKLL. 

TiTE  moon  was  still  shining  very  bright- 
ly, and  they  could  see  very  well  the  faces 
and  the  uniforms  of  their  captors.  The 
sight  of  the  government  uniforms  was  very 
reassuring  to  Rita,  who  was  only  anxious 
to  escape  from  the  Carlists;  but  the  first 
glance  which  Russell  gave  at  the  captain 
(if  the  band  overwhelmed  him  with  terror, 
lie  recognized  Lopez,  and  saw  that  he  had 
fallen  into  the  hands  of  one  who  had  no 
reason,  and  perhaps  no  inclination,  to  show 
!iim  the  slightest  mercy.    At  that  sight  all 


Russell's  courngc  subsided,  and  he  fell  into 
a  state  of  mental  prostration  as  extreme  as 
that  which  he  had  experienced  when  "His 
Majesty"  had  confroiiteil  him  in  his  llight. 

For,  unfortunately  lor  him,  Loi)ez  had 
received  at  his  hands  treatment  which  was 
sullicient  to  inspire  a  deep  resentment  even 
in  a  man  less  impetuous  than  this  hot- 
blooded  Spaniard.  First,  he  had  not  only 
discouraged  his  attentions  to  Katie,  but 
had  jirohibited  them  in  every  possible  way, 
and  ill  the  most  positive  and  insulting  man- 
ner. Again,  but  a  short  time  before  tliis, 
at  the  railway  station  at  ]\hi(hid,  he  had 
caused  him  to  be  (jcctetl  from  the  railway- 
carriage.  For  all  this  he  felt  tliat  Lopez 
must  cherish  a  deep  desire  for  vengeance, 
and  would  njoice  now  if  he  were  to  dis- 
cover that  his  enemy  had  become  his  jiris- 
oner.  Li  such  an  emergency  as  this,  Rus- 
sell was  utterly  helpless,  and  could  only 
hope  that  his  disguise  might  batlle  Lopez, 
or  that  the  quick  wit  of  Rita  nii;;ht  be  able 
to  save  him  from  discovery. 

After  regarding  them  for  a  sufficient  time, 
Lopez  began  an  examination  of  the  prison- 
ers. 

"  Who  are  you  V  he  asked. 

Rita  answered. 

'■  I  am  a  poor  woman,"  said  she,  "  and 
this  lady  is  a  fcu'eigner  who  docs  not  un- 
derstand Spanish." 

"  "What  are  you  doing  hero  alone  on  this 
road  ?" 

"  We  are  fugitives." 

"  Fugitives  from  whom  ?" 

"  From  the  Carlists." 

At  this  Lopez  was  visibly  excited. 

"The  Carlists?"  he  asked.  "  Where  are 
they  i  Where  did  you  leave  them  ?  Tell 
the  truth,  woman,  and  you  shall  lie  reward- 
ed. But  if  you  arc  false,  I  shall  regard  you 
both  as  spies." 

"  Noble  captain,  I  am  anxious  to  tell  the 
truth,  and  glad  that  we  have  fallen  among 
friends.  We  have  escaped  from  an  old  cas- 
tle some  distance  away,  and  have  been  Hy- 
ing for  hours — " 

"  A  castle  I"  said  Lopez,  interrupting  her ; 
"where  is  it  ?" 

"  There,  to  the  north,"  said  Rita. 

"  Oh.  very  well.  I  shall  be  able  to  find 
out  from  you  again  Vi-hcre  it  may  be  situ- 
ated ;  but  now  tell  me  more  about  your- 
selves. What  were  you  doing  at  the  cas- 
tle?" 

"Noble  senor,  about  three  weeks  ago  I 
was  taken  prisoner  by  the  Carlists,  and 


118 


A  CASTLE  IN  SPAIN. 


tliey  took  mc  to  tliis  cnstlo,  where  tlicy 
made  mo  serve  as  an  attendant  on  tlie  pris- 
oners.    Amonjnf  tlii'm  was  tliis  laily." 

" Prisoners r'  cried  Lopez;  "  liavc  they 
any  others  ?" 

"  Two  days  arfo,"  said  lita, "  they  brought 
several  new  prisoners." 

"  How  many  ?" 

"Six." 

"  Wiio  were  they  ?" 

"  I  don't  l<now — foreigners." 

"  Jleii  or  women  ?" 

"  Tliree  of  tlieni  were  men  and  three  were 
women.  Some  one  said  they  were  Eng- 
lish." 

"English?"  said  Lopez,  growing  more 
excited  still  at  this  news,  which  was  so 
mneh  in  accordance  with  his  wishes — 
"  English  ?  Tell  mo  more  about  them." 
'  "Well,  senor,  of  the  men  one  was  elder- 
ly; the  other  two  were  young,  quite  hand- 
some; they  looked  rich,  noble,  proud." 

"Never  mind.  Now  tell  n\e  about  the 
women.     Were  they  ladies  ?" 

"  Yes,  senor,  they  were  noble  ladies, 
wealthy,  high-born,  ])roud.  And  one  was 
eldeiiy,  and  they  said  she  was  a  great  lady. 
And  some  said  she  was  the  mother  of  the 
young  ladies,  though  they  did  not  look 
like  her  daughters,  nor  did  they  look  like 
sisters." 

"Tell  mo  about  them;  what  did  they 
look  like?" 

"One,  seiior,  looked  like  a  Spanish  lady. 
And  she  was  dark  and  beautiful  and  sad, 
with  melanclioly  eyes.  Never  did  the  siui 
shine  on  a  more  lovely  lady;  but  her  sad- 
ness always  made  me  feel  sad." 

Lopez  interrupted  iier  with  an  impatient 
gesture. 

"Never  mind  her.  Now  describe  the 
other  one."  said  he. 

"The  otlier?"  said  Rita;  "she  looked 
like  an  English  duchess.  She  was  light — 
oh,  a  wonderful  light  blonde,  with  golden 
hair,  and  eyes  as  blue  as  heaven,  with 
cheeks  pink-and-white,  and  with  dimples 
dancing  on  them,  and  with  the  smile  of  an 
angel  that  always  lurked  in  her  lips  and 
laughed  out  of  her  eyes.  And  she  was  as 
beautiful  as  a  dream,  and  no  one  ever  saw 
her  .sad.  Heaven  does  not  hold  in  all  its 
mansions  a  more  lioautiful,  beautiful  angel 
than  this  English  duchess." 

Rita  spoke  enthusiastically;  the  more  so 
as  she  saw  Lopez  look  at  her  with  a  deep 
attention,  and  a  gaze  that  devoured  all  her 
words. 


"That  is  she!"  cried  Lopez,  in  intense 
excitement.  "That  is  the  one  of  whom  I 
wished  to  hear.  So  you  iiave  .seen  herU 
Ah,  well,  good  woman,  this  information  is 
your  be:.t  passport — more,  it  is  worth  nuich 
to  me.     I'll  reward  you." 

"Oh,  senor,"  said  Rita,  anxious  to  strike 
wliilo  the  iron  was  hot,  and  secure  her  free- 
dom at  once,  "if  this  information  is  wel- 
come and  valualjle,  th(^  only  reward  I  want 
is  to  let  us  go.  Let  us  go,  noble  scfior,  for 
we  have  urgent  business,  and  our  detention 
here  may  be  our  ruin." 

"Ruin?"  cried  Lopez;  "what  nonsense! 
You  are  free  now,  and  safe  from  the  {,'ar- 
lists.  As  to  letting  you  go,  tiuit  is  out  of 
the  (piestion.  You  are  the  very  woman  I 
want  to  sec.  You  know  all  about  this  cas- 
tle. You  must  be  my  guide  I)a('k  to  it.  I 
have  been  sent  to  recapture  those  unfortu- 
nate prisoners.  I  have  been  unable  thus 
far  to  get  on  their  track.  As  to  that  cas- 
tle, there  is  a  certain  one  up  yonder  which 
I  had  an  idea  of  reconnoitring  ;  but  if  all 
I  hear  is  true,  I  shall  have  to  get  ar- 
tillery. Now  you  hav(;  escaped,  and  you 
may  be  able  to  give  me  intbrmatiou  of  a 
very  valuable  kind.  I  should  like  to  know 
how  yoti  contrived  to  escajje  from  a  i)laee 
like  that,  and  I  urge  you  to  be  frank  with 
me.  Remember  this,  that  the  quickest  way 
to  liberty  will  be  to  help  me  to  get  those 
prisoners.  Yoit  must  remain  with  me  un- 
til then.  The  so(mer  I  capture  them,  the 
sooner  you  shall  be  allowed  to  dei)art." 

All  this  was  a  sore  blow  to  Rita's  hopes; 
but  her  quick  mind  soon  took  iu  all  the 
facts  of  her  position,  and  she  concluded 
that  it  would  be  best  to  be  frank,  as  the 
captain  had  urged.  She  also  saw  that  it 
would  be  for  her  interest  that  the  castle 
should  be  cai)tured  as  soon  as  possible. 
And  she  knew,  too,  that  a  band  of  brave 
men,  headed  by  a  determined  leader,  could 
have  no  difficulty  in  capturing  the  castle 
by  a  surj)rise,  if  she  should  only  make 
known  to  them  the  jiassage-way  by  which 
she  had  lately  escaped. 

Accordingly  Rita  proceeded  to  give  to 
Lopez  a  full  account  of  the  way  iu  which 
she  had  managed  to  etfect  the  escape  of 
herself  and  her  companion  from  the  castle. 
Lopez  listened  with  the  ileepest  attention, 
making  her  explain  with  the  utmost  mi- 
nuteness the  nature  of  the  chambers  ami 
passages  which  she  had  traversed,  an 
their  position  with  reference  to  the  rest  of 
the  castle ;  also  the  track  down  the  sides 


"  y( 
shg 
vic( 
II 

!lSsi; 

Kiiis 
cite 
lie  c 


A  CASTLE  IN  SPAIN. 


110 


to 
di 
ol' 
Ic. 

ni- 

lul 
(if 


oi'tlic  cliasm  ;  its  Iicij,'lit,  len<,'tli,  and  widtli, 
and  how  far  it  oftercd  concciilmcnt  to  tiiose 
liassinjx  over  it. 

".My  good  woman,"  said  lie,  "  do  not  ob- 
ject to  a  little  further  detention.  I  assure 
you  it  need  not  lie  for  more  than  twenty- 
lour  hours.  After  all,  wiuit  is  tliut  {  liy 
tlii.s  time  to-morrow  I  sliall  iiavc  that  castle 
ill  my  own  hands.  It  is  of  such  iiihnite 
iini)ortance  to  me  to  cai)ture  tiiose  prison- 
ers, that  I  assure  you  tlicre  is  nothing  I 
will  not  do  for  you,  if  you  are  faithtul  to 
iiu!  till  I  conclude  this  liusmess  of  mine. 
So  make  up  your  mind  to  work  for  me  in 
a  checriul,  loyal,  active  way;  and  you  will 
rejoice  to  your  dying  day  tliat  you  ever 
met  with  Hi'rnando  Lo])ez. 

During  tlii.s  conversution,  Russell,  stand- 
ing apart,  had  watched  tlieni  attentively. 
Althougli  unalilc  to  understand  the  words, 
he  was  able  to  gather  from  tiie  faces,  gest- 
ures, and  tones  of  the  two  a  very  fair  idea 
of  tlicir  meaning.  He  could  .see  that  Lopez 
^'lew  more  and  more  excited;  that  tiie  c.k- 
eitement  was  most. intense,  yet  altogether 
agrcca1)Ie;  and  tliat  he  himself  was  far. 
very  far,  from  being  tiie  suliject  of  that 
conversation,  lie  could  see  that  the  effect 
produced  upon  Lopez  was  of  the  mi>st  dc- 
?iral)le  kind,  and  tiiat  the  dreaded  captain 
was  now  in  a  mood  from  which  no  danger 
was  to  be  apprehended.  And  therefore  it 
was  that  tlie  virtuous,  yet  undeniably  timid 
Russell,  began  to  pluck  up  heart.  To  such 
a  degree  was  his  late  terror  surmounted, 
tliat  he  now  became  conscious  of  a  fact 
wliich  had  liitherto  been  suppressed  under 
tiie  long  excitement  of  hurried  lligiit  and 
sudden  capture;  and  this  fact  was  tiiat  lie 

ad  been  fasting  for  a  long  time,  and  was 
now  ravenously  hungry. 

At  length  the  conversation  ended,  and 
Lopez  was  about  to  turn  away,  when,  sud- 
denly, ho  noticed  Russell.  He  raised  liis 
liat  courteously  as  if  to  a  lady,  and  Russell 
returned  this  civility  with  a  most  awkward 
how.  But  Lopez  did  not  notice  this.  He 
was  in  a  pleasant  frame  of  mind,  and  full 
of  excited  ho]ies. 

"  I  hope,"  said  he,  with  a  polite  smile, 
"your  ladyship  will  not  be  put  out  by  this 
slight  delay.  Otherwise  I  am  at  your  ser- 
vice." 

Russell  understood  this  to  bo  an  offer  of 
iissistanco,  and,  feeling  secure  in  his  dis- 
f,'uise,  he  made  a  bold  effort  to  communi- 
C'ltc  with  the  enemy.  And  this  is  the  way 
lie  did  it: 


•'Me  hungry,"  he  .said  ;  "d— n  hungry  I" 

"i[ungria<"  said  Lopez.  "All,  a  Hun- 
garian lady!  Aii,  true — I  liad  forgotten. 
And  so,  Rita,  your  friend  is  a  Hungarian 
lady  ?" 

"  Yes,"  said  Rita,  delighted  at  having 
her  companion's  nationality  so  conveiiieiit- 
iy  disposed  of  "Yes;  she's  a  foreigner, 
a  Hungarian  lady,  and  no  one  can  under- 
stand iier  langiuige." 

"  Very  good,"  said  Lopez.  "  It  is  all  the 
same  wliether  Hungarian  or  Spanish.  She 
is  a  lady,  and  shall  be  treated  as  well  as 
possiide.  And  now,  Rita,  you  must  rest, 
for  you  must  l)e  strong  and  active  for  to- 
morrow's work." 

AVith  these  words  Lopez  showed  them 
to  their  resting-jjlace.  It  was  in  the  loft, 
where  Rrooke  and  Talbot  were  confined. 
Here  Rita  ascended  nimbly,  and  Russell 
followed,  not  without  dilliculty;  and  soon 
Rita  forgot  her  fatigue,  and  Russell  liis 
hunger,  in  a  sound  sleep. 


CHAPTER  XXXVn. 

IN     WHICH     RCSSKLI.     MAKES     NKW     FntKND.S,     A.ND 
TAI.IIOT  SEKS   NKW    I'KIULS. 

Russell  and  Rita  had  thus  been  brought 
to  the  loft  of  the  old  mill,  in  which  Brooke 
and  Talbot  were  prisoners.  It  was  fortu- 
nate for  these  latter  that  there  had  occur- 
red this  little  episode  of  the  arrival  of  new 
prisoners,  for  it  served  to  give  a  diversion 
to  their  thoughts,  turning  them  into  a  new 
channel,  and  relieving  them  from  that  in- 
tense excitement  of  feeling  l)y  which  they 
had  been  overcome.  It  also  gave  them  a 
subject  of  common  interest  apart  from 
themselves;  and  thus  they  were  once  more 
able  to  converse  with  one  another,  without 
having  that  sense  of  violent  self-restraint 
which  had  thus  far  afflicted  them.  Brooke 
was  able  to  be  lively,  without  any  affecta- 
tion of  too  extravagant  gayety,  and  Talbot 
was  no  longer  crushed  into  dumbness. 

They  had  seen  the  arrival  of  the  prison- 
ore  from  the  window,  and  Ii.'hI  watched 
tliem  closely.  The  two  fugitives  had  been 
captured  close  by  the  mill  by  the  band  of 
Lopez,  just  as  that  band  was  approaching 
the  spot  after  a  weary  and  useless  day. 
The  examination  had  been  overheard  by 
the  two  listeners  in  the  loft,  who  were  thus 
able  to  understand  the  meaning  of  the  new 
turn  which  affairs  had  taken.  After  the 
prisoners  had  been  brought  up  to  the  loft, 


120 


A  CASTLK  IN  SPAIN. 


tlicircliMnu'tcr  and  iippoiirnnro  still  fornu'd 
ti  lit'l'l  I'or  iiii^L'iiious  spt'culiilioii ;  uiul  iiiany 
were  the  tlicoiics  huzank'd  tiy  cacli,  in  turn, 

*  ward  tlic  solution  oftlioFc  points. 
.'Sloiiiinijf  al  ion^^tli  canic,  and  the  prison- 
ers iiwakeil.  Kitiv  wus  tirst  on  lur  feet,  and 
llrookc!  was  able  to  r(;ail  licr  wlioli;  cliar- 
ucter  at  a  ylance.  He  saw  licr  to  lie  a  coni- 
niou  sort  of  woman,  with  ii  hold  lace,  pierc- 
ing eyes,  and  ready  toni,'ue.     He  soon  en- 

*  ■    1    into   a  conversation  witli    her,  and 

1  from  her  exactly  what  she  had  al- 
ly  told  Lope/.  She  also  informed  him 
tlnit  Lopez  had  detained  her,  in  order  that 
slie  niij^ht  yuide  him  hack  to  the  castle. 
'J'his  much  JJrooke  had  already  j^athered 
Ironi  what  little  he  had  overheard  of  the 
examination  of  the  jirevioiia  eveninir,  and 
it  f,'ave  him  unmixed  jileasure.  For,  al- 
thoui,di  he  had  refused  to  violate  his  honor 
I»y  acting'  as  nuide  to  betray  the  eastle,  he 
luid  no  objection  that  others  should  do  so. 
The  fate  of  tiie  castle  and  its  Carlist  occu- 
pants was  in  itself  a  matter  of  indilVcrcnce 
to  him.  To  be  taken  there  would  midie  an 
asreeuiile  cliange  for  himself  and  Talbot. 
If  Lopez  siiould  take  them  with  him,  it 
•id  be  pleasant  to  ixo  iiaek  Mith  Talbot 
'\at  tower  and  renew  the  past;  and  al- 
ii, for  reas(ms  already  f^iven,  he  did 
not  feel  like  ih'\nii  willi  her,  still  he  felt 
that  liberty  would  be  better  for  both,  and 
■was  ready  *o  avail  himself  of  any  chance 
that  might 

Brooke  reported  to  Talbot  what  Rita 
liad  said,  and  while  they  were  oonvcrsinf:f 
Russell  awoke.  Suddenly  he  detected,  to 
his  amazement,  the  sound  of  English  words. 
The  shock  was  so  great  that  he  was  on  the 
very  point  of  betraying  himself,  and  it  was 
only  by  a  strong  etlbrt  that  he  maintained  his 
self-control.  Then,  listening  quietly,  he  un- 
derstood the  whole  state  of  the  case,  as  it  had 
resulted  froni  Rita's  examination  by  Lopez. 

Unable  to  sleej)  any  longer,  Russell  roused 
himself,  and  slowly  putting  himself  on  his 
feet,  walked  to  the  window.  His  figure 
and  movements  at  once  sirnck  the  notice 
of  Talbot,  who  drew  the  attention  of 
Brooke  to  the  strange  and  cccer.tric  atti- 
tudes of  the  "  Hungarian  countess."  Brooke 
scrutinized  the  good  Russell  closely,  and 
expressed  his  oj)inions  with  gre(>>  freei^om, 
and  a  severe  criticism  followed,  in  which 
these  two,  safe,  as  they  supposcci,  in  the  ig- 
norance of  the  fiu'cigncr,  made  very  severe 
strictures  ujjon  Itussell's  whole  pcrsoimel. 

Russell,  for  his  part,  watched  them  as 


well  as  he  could,  and  listened  attentively, 
without  being  in  tiie  least  oll'cndetl.  lie 
could  perceive  easily  enough  tiiat  the  priest 
was  English  and  the  other  was  Anierieuii. 
He  longeil,  in  his  helplessness,  to  take  tlnni 
into  Ids  contidence.  He  was  not  at  all  sal 
istled  \»ith  his  own  relations  toward  Riln. 
and  thought  that  if  he  could  only  triM 
these  two,  who  were  of  his  own  blood,  he 
might  be  safe.  And  yet  he  felt  tlie  iiedi 
ofeaiilion.  They  might  betray  him.  Like 
himself,  they  were  prisoners,  perhajis  in  a 
more  perilous  situation,  and  would  not  hesi- 
tate to  saerilice  him  if  they  could  gain  aii\- 
thing  by  it. 

When  li(!  heard  of  the  ])ro])osc(l  retiuii 
to  the  castle,  he  felt  at  first  thoroughly  dis- 
mayed. Farther  thought,  however,  niailc 
it  seem  less  dreadful,  for  he  hoped  that  if 
Lopez  were  to  capture  the  place  and  de- 
liver Katie,  his  wrath  might  be  appeased, 
and  he  might  rec^over  hi.s  hidden  money: 
while,  on  the  other  hand,  he  perceived  that 
if  the  worst  came  to  the  worst  and  his 
disguise  was  discovered,  Lojuv.  even  tluii 
could  not  be  more  danj^erous  than  "  His 
Majesty"  had  been. 

There  was  something,  liowever,  in  the 
tone  and  manner  of  these  two,  ns  well  as  in 
their  general  aspect,  which  gradually  broke 
down  the  mistrust  and  reserve  of  Russell. 
He  began  to  feel  convinced  that  he  might 
trust  them,  that  his  secret  would  be  safe  in 
their  hands,  and  that  they  might  giv(!  lilin 
valuable  information  and  advice,  if  not  as- 
sistance. Besides,  he  rellected  that  chance:* 
of  escape  might  arise,  and  he  thought  that 
he  would  be  safer  in  their  company  than  in 

j  that  of  Rita.  Finally,  he  came  to  the  con- 
clusion to  trust  them.     But  here  he  deter- 

!  mined  to  go  only  half-wa.' .  He  would  tell 
them  that  he  was  English,  but  not  an  Eng- 
lishman, and  would  leave  farther  diselo.-;- 
ures  to  the  chapter  of  accidents.  If  Lopez 
should  discover  this  much  and  no  more, 
there  would  be  no  danger,  and  he  miglit 
conclude  that  lie  himself  had  made  the 
mistake,  since  Hungarian  and  English  were 

■  both  alike  unknown  to  him. 

I  After  careful  observation,  Russell  aho 
concluded  that  he  would  be  safer  if  he  ad- 

1  dres.sed  his  confidences  to  the  young  priest 

I  with  the  sweet  and  gentle  face.  The  other 
one  looked  less  trustworthy,  or  at  least 
less  inclined  to  pity.  Under  these  circum- 
stances, therefore,  and  with  this  design,  the 
good  man  began  his  advances,  moving  in  :i 
hesitating  way  toward  them,  with  furtive 


A  CASTl-E  IN  SPAIN. 


121 


glances,  and  with  sucli  vei-j-  extraordinary 
gestures  tliat  Brooke  avv  Talljot  regards.! 
luni  in  great  surprise. 

"Tlie  Hungarian  countess,"  said  ?''albot, 
"  seems  more  eccentric  than  ever." 

Kussell  looked  all  around  in  a  stealthy 
way.     Kita's  eyes  were  lixed  on  him,  but  | 
ho  did  not  care  *')r  that.     He  smiled  nt  I 
her,  however,  anil   noddeil  l)lithely.  so  i's ' 
to  disarm  any  possii)!','  sus[)icions,  ami  tiien 
addressed  himsell'to  'J'albot. 

'•()h,  sir  I"'  said  he,  '•  Tni  iu)t  a  Hungari- 
an countess  at  all.  I'm  a  ))oor  unfortunate 
English-woman,  tliafs  escaping  from  tlie 
banditti,  with  the  help  of  this  good  creat- 
ure.    And  I  know  I  can  trust  you." 

At  this  the  amazement  of  Hrookc  and 
Talbot  was  inexpressible.  Brooke,  how- 
ever, held  his  tongue,  seeing  that  as  Talbot 
had  been  addressed,  it  would  be  better  for 
lier  to  answer.  So  Talbot,  after  a  few  ex- 
l)ressions  of  sympathy,  asked  Russell  to  ex- 
l)lain  farther. 

Russell  tlien  informed  them  thai'  her 
name  was  3fi's.  Russell ;  that  she  had  b.ieu 
captured,  along  with  her  d.nighter,  by  the 
C'arlists;  that  she  had  eseapeil,  hoping  to 
get  help  to  rescue  her  daughter.  AH  this 
Kussell  stated,  not  without  much  circum- 
hjcution  an.d  contradiction. 

Brooke  now  interposed. 

"  But  don't  you  know,"  said  he,  "  that 
these  people  are  Republicans — tiiat  they're 
going  to  capture  the  castle,  or  try  to  ?  If 
tliey  succeed,  they  will  free  your  daughter. 
So  you  see  you  have  fallen  among  the  right 
s(nt  of  ))eople,  unci  you  may  be  (piite  at  your 
ease.  It's  all  the  best  for  you.  If  I  were 
you,  I  would  tell  tlie  captain  all  about  it. 
Get  yonder  good  woman,  your  companion, 
to  explain." 

At  this  Russell  gave  a  look  of  despair. 

"The  very  thing,"  said  he,  "that  I  dare 
not  do." 

"  Why  not  ?" 

Russell  then,  still  keeping  up  the  part  of 
Mrs.  Russell,  and  mentioning  Katie  as  her 
daughter,  explained  that  Lopez  was  his  bit- 
ter enemy,  aiii  old  tliem  about  his  love  for 
Katie  and  his  ejection  from  the  railway- 
carriage. 

"Well,"  said  Prookc,  "you  needn't  be 
afraid  of  him.  This  matter  M'ill  settle 
itself.  He'll  free  your  daughter  from  cap- 
tivity, and  she'll  marry  him,  of  course.  Af- 
ter that  you  can  take  the  sweetest  revenge 
on  him  by  tormenting  him  for  the  rest  of 
liis  days  us  his  mother-in-law." 


Russell  sighed  a  heavy  sigh  and  turned 
away.  As  he  did  so,  he  caught  the  eyes  of 
Rita,  which  were  fastened  upon  him  with  a 
lixed,  earnest,  eager  stare,  and  there  was  that 
in  her  look  which  served  to  drive  away  ev- 
ery other  thought  except  the  one  that  in 
this  woman  there  was  a  new  danger,  more 
formidable  than  any  which  liail  yet  men- 
aced him.  This  look  made  him  feel  like  an 
arrested  delitor  in  the  grasp  of  the  bailitl",  or 
like  an  insane  man  under  the  watchful  eye 
of  his  keeper.  In  Rita  he  now  recr.gnized 
his  bailitl'  and  his  keeper.  She  was  worse. 
She  ha  ^  designs  on  him!  And  for  what? 
For  ma/rying  him.  Marriage  was,  of  course, 
impossible,  lor  he  had  a  wife  already  ;  but 
did  Rita  know  tins  i  To  tell  the  truth,  he 
hail  been  Iboling  her;  and  he  now  saw  for 
the  first  time  that  he  would  have  to  answer 
for  this.  When  she  siiould  discover  it,  what 
would  she  do  {  He  had  heard  the  words 
of  the  poet : 

"IIoll  luitb  111)  fury  like  a  wouwu  scoruoU," 

and  he  recalled  these  words  only  to  shud- 
der. He  shuddered  still  more  as  he  thought 
that  Rita  belonged  to  the  Spanish  race — a 
race  that  never  forgives— a  race  implacable, 
swift  to  avenge — a  race  that  recognizes  oidy 
one  atoueinent  for  wrongs,  and  that  is  to 
wipe  them  out  in  blood. 

Such  were  the  thoughts  of  our  honest 
friend,  and  they  were  painful  in  the  ex- 
treme. They  awakened  new  fear^'.  That 
one  look  of  Rita's  made  him  dread  her 
more  than  Lopez,  more  than  "  His  .Majesty." 
He  began  to  think  now,  with  something 
like  pleasure,  of  going  back  to  the  castle. 
Lopez  would  protect  him ;  and  if  Lojiez 
should  fail,  he  would  steal  back  by  the 
secret  path  and  surrender  himself  to  "  His 
Majesty."  He  would  find  his  bonds,  and 
purchase  his  freedom  with  these.  In  ad- 
dition to  this,  he  determined  to  wait  for 
a  favorable  opportunity,  wlien  Rita  might 
be  away,  to  confide  to  these  new  and  sym- 
pathizing friends  the  \,  iiole  story  of  liis 

W0C8. 

Further  conversation  between  Russell 
and  these  new  i'riends  was  now  prevented 
by  the  entrance  of  Lopez  himself.  lie  ad- 
vanced to  Brooke,  and  addressed  him  with 
much  civility,  not  without  friendliness. 

"  Sefior,"  said  he,  "  I  liavc  been  thinking 
over  your  case,  and  I  have  concluded  to 
liand  you  over  to  my  military  superiors. 
They  may  take  the  responsibility  of  decid- 
ing about  your  guilt  or  innocence     But  for 


122 


A  CASTLE  IN  SPAIN. 


the  present,  ns  I  am  responsible  for  you,  I 
must  detain  you  as  my  prisoner.  If  you 
were  only  connected  with  some  recognized 
profession,  I  should  be  lia))py  to  accept 
your  ))arole,  and  let  you  follow  at  your 
leisure;  but  as  you  are  considered  here  a 
possible  spy,  I  cannot  think  of  tiiat.  You 
must,  therefore,  come  with  us  luider  guard. 
Jloreover,  as  to  your  fi'iend,  this  young 
priest,  he  must  consider  himself  as  bound, 
for  a  short  time,  with  us.  I  expect  to  have 
need  of  him  for  a  few  days.  I  have  noth- 
ing against  him;  he  is  not  a  prisoner,  but 
is  detained  merely  for  a  purpose  in  con- 
nection with  his  sacred  olMce.  When  that 
purpose  is  accomplished,  he  will  be  at  lib- 
erty to  go  or  stay." 

With  these  words  Lopez  retired.  He  had 
taken  no  notice  of  Russell,  at  which  the 
latter  felt  a  deep  sense  of  relief 

Far  ditl'erent,  however,  were  the  feelings 
of  Brooke,  and  of  Talbot  also,  when  he  liad 
translated  to  her  the  captain's  words. 

"lie  has  need  of  me,"  repealed  Talbot, 
"for  a  purpose  in  connection  witli  my  sa- 
creil  olHce.   Is  that  what  he  said,  Brooke  V 

"  Yes,"  said  Brooke,  in  a  low  voice. 

"  But  what  am  I  to  do  ?" 

Brooke  led  her  away,  out  of  BusseU's 
hearing,  and  conversed  with  her  in  low 
whispers. 

"  Don't  anticipate  trouble,  Talbot,"'  he 
whispered. 

"  But  I  must  prepare  myself  for  a  possible 
emergency,"  was  the  reply.  "  Now,  Miiat 
emergency  can  possibly  arise?" 

"  The  buri  il  of  the  dead,  i)erhaps,"  said 
Brooke.  "They  are  going  to  attack  the 
castle.  Some  will  be  killed.  That's  nat- 
ural enough.  Have  you  nerve  enough  to 
perform  the  burial-service  ?" 

"  I  don't  know,"  said  Talbot.  "  I  mi-'ht 
as  well  try  to  connnand  a  regiment." 

"  Oh.  I'll  show  you  the  whole  thing.  All 
you''' .  got  to  do  is  to  read  the  burial-ser- 
vic .  out  of  the  breviary.  We'll  practice  it 
together.  You  need  only  iironounce  the 
Latin  like  Italian.    Do  you  know  Italian  ?'' 

"  No." 

"  French  ?" 

"  No." 

"  Oh,  well,  you're  an  English  ]iricst,  you 
know,  and  so  you  had  better  pronounce  it 
like  English.  These  devils  will  be  none 
the  wiser." 

Talbot  was  silent  and  thoughtful  for  a 
few  moments. 

"  Brooke,''  said  f'le,  at  length, "  what  were 


they  saying  about  Lopez  going  to  rescue 
an  English  gi'l,  this — this  person's  daugh- 
ter? This  person,  a  —  Mrs.  Bussell,  said 
that  Lopez  was  in  love  with  the  girl.  You 
spoke  about  his  rescuing  her  aud  marrying 
her." 

She  hesitated. 

"Well?"  said  Brooke. 

"  Well,"  said  Talbot,  mournfully,  ''  don't 
you  see  what  I  mean?  and  tiie  use  he 
wishes  to  make  of  me  in  my  false  charac- 
ter as  priest  *" 

"By  Jove!"  exclaimed  Brooke,  as  Tal- 
bot's meaning  dawned  upon  him. 

"  You  see,  Brooke,  I'm  afraid  that  in  my 
disguise  as  priest  I  may  be  required  to 
marry  this  English  girl  to  Lopez;  and  that 
is  sacrilege — it  is  infamy — it  is  too  horri- 
ble.   I  cannot — I  will  not.     Never!" 

At  this  IBrooke  Mas  filled  with  conster- 
nation. He  could  only  say  something  about 
the  necessity  of  not  anticipating  evil,  and 
express  the  liope  that  it  might  only  Ijc  !i 
burial.  But  Talbot  felt  that  her  fear  was 
Just,  and  that  a  new  and  unavoidable  dan- 
ger now  arose  before  lier. 

In  a  short  time  after  this  the  band  set 
off,  guided  by  Rita.  Toward  evening  they 
reached  a  spot  about  a  mile  from  the  castle, 
where  they  secreted  themselves  in  a  grove, 
and  rested. 

Evening  came,  and  the  moon  rose.  Then, 
as  silently  as  possible,  tliey  went  to  th(.' 
tower.  Here  arrangements  were  made  for 
the  security  of  the  prisoners,  and  Rita  pre- 
pared to  lead  the  baud  through  the  secret 
way  into  the  castle. 


CHAPTER   XXXYIII. 

IN     WniCIl,   ARKH     A     SKIUF.S    (IF     Sl'lU'ItlSHS,    "  HIS 
MAJKSTV''  G1;TS  THE  OREATEST  SUIU'KISK  (IK  ALL. 

Rkti'rn  must  now  be  made  to  the  castlr 
and  the  two  young  men  whose  duel  had 
been  interrupted.  Captured  thus,  they 
stood  f(»r  a,  time  (juite  overwhelmed,  their 
intense  excitement  now  followed  by  a  vio- 
lent reacti(m,  in  the  midst  of  which  there 
was  the  appalling  thought  of  the  conse- 
quences which  ndght  flow  from  this.  For 
Ashby  to  be  found  in  Harry's  room  would 
surely  lead  to  the  discovery  of  cvcrythiim 
— the  secret  passage-way,  the  sliding-door, 
and,  perhaps,  their  visits  to  the  ladies. 
Each  one  thought  of  this  for  himself  Eacli 


liihil  itHKitif  r  *M<MitnJ' 


I 


A  CASTLE  IN  SPAIN. 


123 


one  had  believed  that  the  Curlists  did  not 
know  about  the  secret  passages.  But  uow 
all  was  over. 

"  Well,"  continued  "  His  Majesty,"  speak- 
ing in  Spanish,  "  business  before  pleasure. 
AVc  will  examine  you  both  about  this  to- 
morrow. For  the  present  we  will  leave  a 
<,'uard  in  this  room.  ]\[eanwliile,  Sefior 
Rivers,  you  nuiy  hand  over  that  pistol ;  or 
stay  —  no  —  you  have  put  it  to  such  a  no- 
lilc  use  that  you  may  keej)  it;  one  pistol 
against  six  men  need  not  be  feared.  And 
now,  ffeutlcmen,  adieU  till  to-morrow." 

Witii  Ihcso  wortls  "His  Majesty"  re- 
tired, securinij  the  door  behintl  him,  and 
Harry  and  Ashby  were  left  with  the  guards. 
They  stood  apart  from  one  another,  pale, 
anxious,  and  each  wrapped  up  in  his  own 
thougiits.  For  all  that  had  happened  each 
blamed  the  other,  and  thus  their  mutual 
hate  was  only  intensilied. 

The  cause  of  "His  Majesty's"  appear- 
ance upon  the  scene  can  be  easily  explained. 
He  had  i)een  greatly  troublc<l  in  his  mind 
by  the  "ghost"  in  Mr.s.  Knsseirs  room,  and 
could  not  account  for  it.  He  had  not 
thought  of  any  secret  conununication,  for, 
lieing  a  comparative  stranger  here,  he  had 
not  known  of  any.  Thinking,  however, 
tliat  he  might  get  some  light  on  the  sub- 
ject, he  had  wandered  to  the  door  of  Har- 
ry's room,  and  there  the  sound  of  voices 
iiad  arrested  his  attention.  Knowing  that 
Harry  was  ])laced  there  in  solitary  continc- 
nient,  he  felt  tinit  the  clue  to  the  mystery 
might  now  be  here;  and  so,  gathering  half 
;i  dozen  men.  he  had  come  iu  upon  them  as 
above  described. 

Leaving  this  room,  "  Ilis  J*^  ijesty  "  now 
went  once  more  to  the  nx-  .»  of  Mrs.  Rus- 
si'l',  ii>  the  hope  of  gaining  more  light  yet. 
I'pon  entering,  he  was  once  more  nearly 
overthrown  by  the  impetuous  onslaught  of 
the  irrepressible  Mrs.  Unssell,  who,  at  this 
now  and  unexpected  advent  of  her  royal 
lover,  overwhelmed  herself  and  everybody 
else  with  her  joyous  vociferations.  This, 
however,  "His  Majesty"  endured  with  tru- 
ly royal  dignity,  tem})cring  kindness  with 
liiinness,  and  dealing  gently  with  her  weak 
woman's  nature.  Katie  was  there,  but  the 
royal  eye,  on  wandering  about,  noticed  the 
iii)sence  of  Dolores. 

"Whativer's  become  av  the  senorita?" 
lie  asked. 

Mrs.  Ilussell  gave  a  startled  look  around. 

"  What !  Where  is  she  ?  She's  gone  !" 
-he  screamed  ;    "  she's  gone  !     Oh,   Your 


Gracious  Majesty,  the  ghost !  the  ghost  1 
Save  nie  I'' 

"  Whisht !  Ilowld  yer  tung!"  said  "His 
JIajesty."  "  The  ghost,  is  it  i  So  he's  come 
an'  carried  off  the  senorita !  Well,  I've 
found  the  ghost." 

"  Found  the  ghost !"'  gasped  Mrs.  Russell. 

"  Mesilf  has.  Hegorra,  it's  the  truth  I'm 
tellin'.     Do  ye  know  his  name?"' 

"  His  name  1"  gasped  i^Irs.  Russell,  once 
more  thirking  of  her  late  terrible  fancy. 

"  Yis,  hii  name;  ye  can't  guess  it? 
No  ?     Well,  I'll  tell  yez.     It's  Ashby." 

"Ashby  !  Mr.  Ashi)y  !''  cried  Mrs.  Rus- 
sell.    "  Wily  !  how  could  he  get  here  f 

"  Oh,  well,"  said  "His  .Majesty,"  "  he  did 
get  here,  an'  that's  no  loie.  How  he  got 
here  I'll  lind  out  to-morrer.  But  be  ilid 
get  here,  an'  he's  been  here  since,  an'  by 
the  same  token  he's  sperited  off  the  seno- 
rita.    But  there's  two  av  thim." 

"  Two  of  them  '.''  repeated  Mre.  Russell, 
in  wonder. 

"  Ay,  two  av  thim ;  an'  the  other's  that 
young  blade  Rivers  !'' 

Katie,  tiuis  far,  had  not  said  a  word. 
She  beard  of  the  discovery  of  Ashby  with 
surprise,  but  with  no  <leeper  feeling.  Tho 
moment,  however,  that  the  nanu'  of  Rivers 
was  mentioned,  she  gave  a  gasp,  and  her 
head  fell  forward  on  her  hanils. 

"His  Majesty"  noticed  the  action.  He 
put  his  own  interpretation  upon  it.  But 
he  saitl  not  a  word  that  had  any  reference 
to  it ;  he  was  too  cautious  for  that.  And 
surely  in  this  "His  Majesty"  showed 
a  skill  and  a  discrimination  which  was 
most  politic,  and  well  worthy  of  the  royal 
ruler  of  millions.  More  than  this.  One 
glance  showed  him  how  the  land  lay  with 
Katie;  so  our  monarch,  not  content  with 
abstaining  from  all  further  allusion  to  Har- 
ry, actually  carried  his  complaisance  —  or, 
if  you  ])lease,  his  diplomacy  —  so  far  as  to 
try  to  appease  all  possible  anxieties  that 
might  arise  in  Katie's  mind. 

"  Shure  the  two  lads  meant  no  liarrum 
at  all  at  all,''  said  "  His  Majesty."  "  They 
happened  to  iind  a  way  to  get  here,  an' 
they  came  here,  an'  begorra  they'd  have 
been  fools  if  they  didn't.  Shnrc  to  glory, 
there's  no  harrum  in  life  in  comin'  here  on 
a  bit  av  a  visit.  An'  there's  no  wondher 
that  a  young  man  'ud  come  here,  wid  such 
charrums  as  these  to  invoitc  him.  Shure 
it  'ud  be  enough  to  call  the  dead  back  to 
loife,  so  it  would.  An'  if  they've  run  off 
wid  the  senorita,  all  I  can  say  is,  they  can't 


124 


A  CASTLE  IN  SPAIN. 


fXo  fiir,  nn'  tlic   sefioritu'U  have  to   coiuc 
buck  agin,  so  she  vill : 

"  '"J'is  to  visit  my  Nancy  I  go, 

'riiniiii;!!  IjiislicH  nn'  l)iicrs  ini'  llncis; 
Vor  Nancy  has  bol lierod  nic  brains, 
An'  I'vo  taken  Fiouch  lave  uv  uie  siiiHis.'  " 

"And  wasn't  there  any  ghost  at  all?" 
asked  Mrs.  Uiissell,  to  whom  tliis  informa- 
tion h.iil  uivcn  inexpressible  relief. 

"Well,"  said  "  His  Majesty,  "there's  no 
knowin' ;  an'  it's  best  to  be  on  yer  uyard, 
so  it  is,  for  sorra  a  one  av  iis  knows  whin 
a  ghost  may  be  prowlin'  round  tibont,  an' 
there  ye  have  it.  As  for  the  oilier  ghosts, 
Ashl)y  an'  Rivers,  they  won't  ilo  yez  any 
more  iiarruni — they're  imdher  gyard." 

"Under  guard!"  said  Katie,  and  threw 
iui  imi)loring  look  at  "His  Alajesty."  It 
was  almost  the  th'st  time  that  he  had  fairly 
caught  her  eye,  so  dexterously  had  she  al- 
ways avcided  his  glance. 

"Well,"  said  "His  Majesty,"  "they're 
none  the  ■  orse  for  that— not  a  bit.  Av  all 
r'y'l  atthributes  none  is  so  thruly  majistic 
as  the  atthributes  av  mercy,  an'  makenis.s, 
an'  magnanimcctee.  These  are  the  shu- 
prame  attiiribntes  av  r'y'lty,  an'  iminintly 
characterize  our  own  r'y'l  chyraeter.  so  they 
does.  So  the  yonng  lads  may  whistle  for 
all  av  mc — an'  sorra  a  harrinn  shall  liarrum 
thim." 

At  this  Katie  threw  toward  "  His  Maj- 
esty'' a  glance  of  gratitude  unspeakable, 
which  sank  deep  into  the  royal  soul. 

"An'  now,  ladies,"  saia  lie,"!  must  in- 
farn;ni  yez  that  afther  the  ayvints  av  this 
noight  I  doesn't,  considhcr  this  room  safe 
for  yez  tit  all  at  all.  Shure  it's  loike  a  pub- 
lic tlioronghfare,  an'  it's  a  gathering-place 
an'  rendezvous  for  niin  an'  angils,  ghosts 
an'  hol)g()blins,  an'  all  manner  iiv  ayvil 
craytnres.  So  the  long  an'  the  short  av  it 
is,  I  have  to  infarruni  yez  that  I'm  going  to 
move  yez  out  av  this  the  morrer,  an'  have 
yez  put  in  another  room  where  there  won't 
be  nothin'  in  loife  to  harrum  yez,  where  yc'll 
have  more  comfort  coinboined  with  safety 
thin  ye've  had  here." 

This  remark  made  Katie  reflect.  The 
worst  had  already  happened — the  discov- 
ery and  arrest  of  Harry.  After  that  she 
could  not  hope  to  see  him  again.  She  did 
not  wish  to  leave  the  room;  bnt  as  Harry's 
visits  were  now  at  an  end,  she  conld  not 
see  that  it  would  make  any  dit^'erence. 
But  Mrs.  Russell  had  a  great  deal  to  say. 

"  Oh,  how  grateful !"  she  cried,  in  her 
most  gushing  manner.    "  Oh,  how  deeply 


grateful  I  am  to  Your  Gracious  Majesty  I 
It's  so  kind,  so  thoughtful,  so  considerate, 
and  so  true.  Oh,  what  can  I  ever  say  m 
do  to  express  my  gratitude^  Only,  Your 
tJracious  Majesty,  do  not  leave  me  now  1 
Leave  me  not — oh,  forsake  me  not!  This 
room  is  a  \)]tirx:  of  horrors.  It  is  a  haunted 
chamber.  When  yon  are  here,  I  have  no 
fear;  but  when  you  are  gone,  then  I  am 
overwhelmed.  Oh,  Your  Gracious  M.jes- 
ty,  forsake  me  not!  Leave  me  not!  Oh, 
leave  me  not,  or — I — shall— die!" 

Against  such  an  ajtpeal  as  this  the  gal- 
lantry of"  His  Majesty  ''  was  scarcely  proof 
He  threw  a  tender  glance  at  Katie,  which, 
however, was  not  perceived,  and  then  said: 

"  Shure  to  glory,  if  it's  afeared  ye  are,  why 
that's  a  dilfcrent  matther,  so  it  is.  I  didn't 
intintl  to  move  yez  away  this  noight;  but 
if  yez  are  afeared.  why  there's  no  raison  in 
loife  why  yez  shouldn't  go  oil"  now  to  the 
other  room." 

"  Oh,  take  me  away  !"  cried  iMrs.  Russell ; 
"take  me  awtiy.  Your  Royal  JIajesty — take 
me  with  you  !" 

"Shure  it's  mesilf  that'll  take  bothav  yez, 
if  ye  wish  it,  whiniver  ye  say  the  worrud," 
said  "His  I^Iajesty."  "An'  remimber, 
there's  the  crown  av  Sjiain,  an'  the  power, 
an'  the  glory,  an'  the  dignity,  an'  the  pomj), 
an'  the  splindor  av  the  Spanish  throne,  all 
to  be  had  wid  a  wink  av  one  av  your  love- 
ly eyes,  so  it  is.     Remimber  that." 

"Ah,  sire!"  said  Mrs.  Russell,  languish- 
ingly.  "  Oh,  Your  Gracious  Majesty !  Ah, 
what  shall  I  say  ?" 

She  had  taken  it  all  to  herself,  and  in 
the  most  open  way;  while  Katie  didn't 
take  it  at  all.  "  His  Majesty  "  saw  this,  and 
determined  to  be  more  direct. 

"  Well,"  said  he,  "  ye  see — '' 

Bnt  at  this  moment  a  wild  yell  sounded 
forth  from  without,  with  sudden  and  ap- 
palling fury.  It  burst  upon  their  ears, 
from  the  stillness  of  midnight,  with  terrific 
violence,  chilling  the  very  blood  in  their 
veins.  Then  came  the  rush  of  heavy  feet, 
the  clatter  of  swords,  the  explosion  of  fire- 
arms, the  shouts  of  many  voices  : 

"  Hurrah  for  the  Republic  !" 

"  Down  with  the  Carlists  !" 

^Irs.  Russell  gave  a  long,  piercing  yell, 
which  drowned  every  other  sound,  and 
flung  herself  into  "  His  Majesty's''  arms. 

"  His  Majesty  "  tore  himself  away. 

"  What's  that  ?"  he  cried.  "  It's  an  in- 
surrection av  the  populace,  so  it  is.  We'll 
!  go  off  an'  mate  thim." 


A  CASTLE  IN  SPAIN. 


125 


With  these  words  he  ruslicd  out  of  the 
room. 

The  IikTr'S  were  left  alone,  and  llsteneil 
in  terror  to  the  uproar.  Up  from  every  side 
there  came  tin;  .shouts  of  men,  the;  tramp  of 
nishinj;  feet,  the  elangor  of  trumpets,  ami 
the  thunder  of  tire -arms.  Far  on  hii^h 
from  tlu!  hattiemented  root";  fm-  down  from 
the  vaulted  cellars;  \vilh()r.t,fn)m  tlieeourt- 
viirds;  within,  from  unseju  chambers,  cumo 
the  uproar  of  tinlitini;-men.  'I'liere  was  a 
wild  rush  forward,  and  another  lierce  rusii 
backward;  now  all  the  contlict  seemed  to 
sway  on  one  side,  now  on  another;  at  one 
time  tlio  coufxrejiatt'd  sounds  would  all 
jratiier  apparently  in  one  central  point,  then 
tliis  would  luwst  and  break,  and  with  a 
wild  explosion  all  the  castle,  in  every  i)art, 
would  be  tilled  with  universal  riot.  Then 
came  the  clanpc  of  arms,  the  volleyiuf^  of 
ffuns,  the  trami)linjjj  of  feet,  the  hurryinu', 
tiic  strui,'f,dini,',  the  pantiuLT,  the  convulsive 
sercaminjj^  of  a  multitude  of  men  in  the 
fierce,  hot  ai^ony  of  battle. 

In  the  midst  of  this  the  door  was  flung 
open,  and  "His  JIajesty"  burst  into  the 
room.  Ilis  apparel  was  all  disordered; 
liis  face  and  hands  were  blaekenetl  with 
powder  and  stained  witli  blood.  He  ap- 
peared to  have  been  in  tiic  thickest  of  the 
tiLjlit.  He  l)urst  in,  and  instantly  bani^in/;^ 
to  the  door,  he  fastened  it  on  the  insiile. 

"AVe'rc  betrayed!"  he  cried.  "It's  the 
inimy  !  We'll  be  captured  !  We'll  ijc  e.x- 
I'LUtcd  !    All's  lost !" 

At  this  Mrs,  Russell  fluncf  iierself  into  the 
royal  arms.  "His  JIajesty"  had  by  this 
time  grown  so  accustomed  to  this  that  he 
accepted  it  with  resignation  as  part  of  tlie 
misfortunes  of  the  hour,  and  merely  heaved 
a  sigh. 

Hut  they  were  roused  by  thunderous 
Mows  upon  the  door.  ]\Iassive  though  that 
door  was,  it  would  soon  be  beaten  in  by 
such  blows  as  those. 

"  We're  lost !"  cried  "  His  ^lajesty."  "  Is 
there  any  way  out  ?  Shure  some  av  ycz 
know,"  lie  asked,  eagerly.  "  Ye  know,'' 
lie  said,  earnestly,  t(»  Katie,  "  the  way — the 
way  he  came — Rivers  !" 

"His  Majesty's"  position  was  desperate. 
At  such  an  appeal  Katie  could  not  be  un- 
moved. 

"  Save  me  !  Show  me  the  way,"  repeat- 
ed "  His  Majesty." 

Katie  said  nothing.  She  liurried  toward 
tlie  fireplace.  "His  Majesty"  followed. 
Mrs.  Russell  still  clung  to  the  royal  person. 


Katie  pointed  up  the  steps  to  the  open- 
ing. 

"  Is  it  there  ?  —  begorra,  mesilf  never 
knowed  it  or  suspected  it." 

He  seized  a  torch  that  lay  in  the  fire- 
|)laee,  and  Hjirang  U})  into  the  opening. 
Then  he  lighted  it. 

"  Aren't  you  going  to  take  me.  Your  Sa- 
cred Majesty  '{     Oh,  leave  me  not  1" 
j      "  He  jabers  !"  cried  "  His  Majesty,"  "  I'll 
biitlle  thim  yet :  yis,  ladies — I'll  help  ye/. — 
come  along,  thin." 

I  Mrs.  Russell  came  first;  Katie  then  fol- 
lowed. Katie's  motive  in  following  was 
nothing  in  particular,  but  several  in  g(!ii- 
,  eral.  In  the  lirst  place,  she  was  afraid  of 
the  fightiiig-men  bursting  into  the  room  ; 
in  the  second  place,  slie  naturally  eliing  to 
the  fortunes  of  her  auntie  ;  and,  tlnally,  she 
had  a  vague  idea  of  meeting  with  Harry. 

Thus  tiie  two  ladies  folhjwed,  while  "  His 
iMajesty"  went  ahead,  carrying  the  torch. 
At  li!ngth  h(!  came  to  a  place  where  the 
stone  opened  into  the  i)assag(!-way.  It  had 
lieeii  left  open  by  Ashby.  This  place  seem- 
ed to  "His  .Majt'sty"  to  lead  in  a  more  favor- 
able direction,  and  accordingly  he  turned 
in  here.  Then  he  descended  the  steps,  and 
finally  reached  an  opening.  He  stood  hcjre 
and  listened.  The  room  below  seemed 
empty.  He  descended,  rcfpiesting  the  hi- 
dit's  to  wait  a  few  moments.  On  reaching 
the  room,  he  perceived  that  it  was  closed. 
The  door  had  not  been  opened.  Ashby 
was  not  there,  of  course,  as  "  His  Majesty  " 
knew  ;  but  "His  Majesty"  was  not  a  little 
surprised  at  seeing  Dolores.  There  was  no 
chance  for  her  to  hide,  so  she  stood  look- 
ing at  him.  But  her  face  was  pale,  and 
sad.  and  frightened. 

Before  a  word  could  be  said,  Mrs.  Rus- 
sell scrambled  down,  and  came  clinging 
to  "His  Majesty.''  Katie  followed,  and, 
in  great  amazement,  saw  Dolores.  Slie  at 
once  ran  up  to  her,  put  her  arms  around 
her,  and  kissed  her. 

"  I  might  accuse  this  seiiorita  of  high- 
traison,"  said  "His  Majesty,"  "but  what's 
the  use  ?" 

"Oh,  sire,  spare  her!''  said  Mrs.  Russell, 
"  Remember  that  mercy  is  majesty's  darling 
attribute." 

"Bed.ad  it  is,"  said  "His  Majesty." 
"  Who  iver  says  it  isn't  ?  And  you,  seii- 
orita," said  "His  Majesty"  to  Dolores,  in 
Spanish  —  "  you  seem  to  know  the  secret 
wavs  here." 

"  Yes." 


136 


A  CASTLE  IN  SPAIN. 


"  Why  did  you  come  hero  J" 

"  I  fled  here." 

"llis  Majesty"  smiled. 

"  Oh,  I  understiind ;  but  don't  feur  me. 
I  wouldn't  hiinn  you  —  tliou^h  lliis  dues 
look  like  treason.  Still,  answer  nie  frankly, 
do  you  know  any  other  secret  passages  i" 

"  I  know  them  all." 

"  Will  you  help  me  to  escape  ?"' 

Dolores  hesitated. 

"You  need  not  hesitate;  if  you  don't 
help  me  I'll  kill  you.  No,  I  won't  kill  you 
— I'll  kill  Ashby.  He's  in  the  hands  of  si.K 
of  my  <,Miards.  I've  only  to  give  the  word, 
and  he'll  be  shot,  (iuiek,  now — what  do 
you  say '{" 

"  Will  you  let  me  go  free  ?"  usked  Do- 
lores. 

"  Well,"  said  "  His  Jlajesty,"  "  under  the 
circumstances,  I  think  I  will  consent  to  let 
you  go  free.  Oh  yes;  only  siiow  me  tlie 
way  out,  and  you  may  do  as  you  choose." 

"Then  I  will  show  you,"  said  Dolores. 
"  But,  first,  will  you  tell  me  In  what  room 
Sefior  Ashby  is  confined  ?" 

"No,"  said  "His  Miijesty  ;"  "get  me  out 
first,  and  then  I  will  let  you  know  all  you 
wish." 

"Very  well,"  said  Dolores. 

She  led  the  way  up  into  the  passage 
which  they  had  left.  Mrs.  Russell  followed 
close  upon  "His  Majesty's"'  heels.  As  for 
Katie,  she  did  not  move. 

Follow  ?  Why  should  .she  ?  It  was  quiet 
here,  and  the  immediate  fear  of  the  armed 
men  no  longer  impelled  her  away.  Should 
she  leave  the  castle  ?  Not  slie.  Tlie  cas- 
tle seemed  to  be  captured  l)y  some  enemy. 
This  enemy  must  be  the  soldiers  of  the 
government.  In  that  case  she  ought  by 
all  means  to  stay.  Besides,  she  knew  tliat 
Harry  was  still  here,  and  to  escape  without 
liim  was  not  to  be  thouglit  of. 

Tlie  conse(picncc  was  that  Katie  remain- 
ed Ix'hind.  It  was  very  dark  ;  but  that 
made  no  difTercncc,  as  she  had  grown  ac- 
customed to  the  darkness  since  she  had 
come  here.  True,  the  moonbeams  glim- 
mered through  the  narrow  windows,  but 
the  greater  ])art  of  the  room  was  sunk  in 
gloom.  She  thought  for  a  moment  of  tr\'- 
ing  to  persuade  her  "Auntie"  to  remain; 
l)ut  the  next  instant  she  reflected  upon  the 
infatuation  of  "  Anntie  "  i  lout  "  His  Majes- 
ty," and  concludeil  that  it  would  be  useless 
to  say  a  word.  And  therefore  "Auntie" 
Avcnt  off,  leaving  Katie  alone,  se(!king  the 
crown  of  Spain,  and  the  throne,  and  scep- 


tre, and  power,  might,  dominion,  ponip, 
splendor,  and  majesty — will-o'-the-wisps  all 
of  them,  my  beloved  reailers,  in  search  of 
which  I'm  afraid  poor  "Auntie"  will  conit 
to  grief 

Dolores  led  the  way,  followed  thus  by 
"His  i^Iajesty  ''  and  "  Auntie."  At  the  top 
they  came  to  the  stone  door-way,  which  was 
still  open.  This  Dolores  clo.sed  carefully. 
Then  she  ])ressed  against  a  stone  which 
was  on  the  opposite  side  of  th(!  chamber. 
It  yielded,  and  opened  in  just  like  the  oth- 
er. Pa.ssing  through,  they  all  found  them- 
selves in  a  chamber  like  the  last,  only  it 
ran  in  a  dilferent  direction.  Here  Dolores 
closed  this  dooms  carefully  as  before. 

From  this  chamber  another  passage-way 
led.  It  is  not  necessary  to  detail  here  the 
way  by  which  Dolores  led  them.  SuHice 
it  to  say  that  it  was  long,  tortuous,  and 
constantly  descending  by  means  of  many 
steps.  Several  stone  doors  had  to  be  open- 
ed. To  one  less  familiar  than  Dolores,  all 
passage  through  would  have  been  impos- 
silde,  and  "His  Majesty"  came  to  the  con- 
chision  that  he  could  never  find  liis  w;iy 
back,  if  ever  he  wanted  to  come.  He  said 
as  much  to  Dolores. 

"  It's  easy  to  learn,"  said  she.  "The  plan 
on  which  it  is  arranged  is  so  simple  that  a 
child  can  understand  it  when  once  it  is  ex- 
plained ;  but  you  never  could  find  it  out 
for  yourself" 

"Very  likely,"  said  "  His  Majesty."  "  It's 
the  way  with  most  riddles." 

They  continued  on,  until  at  last  they 
came  to  a  place  at  which  Dolores,  alur 
]nishing  the  rock,  stood  and  listened. 
There  was  a  sound,  outside,  of  rushing 
water. 

Then,  pushing  at  the  rock  again,  it  open- 
ed. The  torch-light  shining  out  disclosed 
a  cavern,  at  the  mouth  of  Mhich  this  pas- 
sage-way thus  opened.  A  brook  bublikd 
along  in  front.  Opjjosite  was  a  precipice. 
Above  was  the  sky,  where  the  moon  shone. 
Tiiey  were  at  the  bottom  of  the  deep  chasm. 


CHAPTER  XXXIX. 

HOW    LOPKZ    AGAIN    MEETS   WITU   KATIE,   AND    HOW 
KATIE   snows   NO   JOV    AT   HER  DELIVERANCE. 

Katie  remained,  as  has  been  stated,  in 
the  lower  room,  which  liad  been  Ashby's 
l)lace  of  imprisonment.  She  was  not  long 
left  alone :  soon  she  heard  the  noise  of  foot- 
steps.   There  was  nothing  in  this  sound 


A  CASTLli  IX  iSrAlN. 


137 


to  nliiria  her,  liowcvcr,  and  so  she  wiiitcil 
quite  ciiliuly,  tliiiikiiif?  tlmt  the  new-comer 
mif^ht  be  more  trieiully  than  the  hist,  ami 
tliat  tliis  new  turn  ofallairs  niiyht  improve 
licr  position.  The  iloor  opened,  and  u  man 
entered  in  tlic  dress  of  an  otKeer,  while  be- 
iiind  liim  tl  're  were  visiliki  soldiers  in  tlie 
uniform  of  llie  Spanisli  army.  These  men 
carried  torclies. 

Tiie  first  eomer  also  had  a  torch,  whicli 
he  heUl  hii^h  above  his  head  as  he  stared 
about  and  peered  through  the  gloom.  At 
len<:th  he  cauglit  sight  of  Katie,  and,  with 
a  cry  of  joy,  advanced  straight  towartl  her. 
It  was  not  until  he  had  come  close  to  her 
that  Katie  was  able  to  recognize  Lopez. 

''Why,  Captain  Lopez!''  siie  said,  in  ex- 
cellent Si)anish ;  for  her  Spanish  connec- 
tions, and  life  in  Spain,  had  made  her  as 
familiar  as  a  native  ■with  that  language. 
'■I  never  was  so  amazed  in  my  life.  I 
never  heard  that  you  Avero  here ;  why 
haven't  I  seen  yon  before  ?" 

Lopez  paused  for  a  moment  in  surprise 
at  Katie's  words,  and  still  more  at  her 
manner. 

"  I've  only  arrived  this  instant,"  said  he, 
'■  and  I've  come  here  to  save  you  from  these 
i)rigands,  and  congratulate  you  and  myself 
on  my  good-fortune  in  finding  you.  The 
other  ladies  I  cannot  find.  I  hope,  seno- 
rita,  that  you  have  not  suffered  much  while 
here  a  prisoner  in  the  hands  of  these  ruf- 
fians ?■' 

•■  Oil  no,"  said  Katie. 

"  This  room  is  not  fit  for  you,"  continued 
Lopez,  "and  you  shall  at  once  be  removed 
to  a  more  comfortable  apartment.'' 

Such  a  i)roposal  as  this  was  by  no  means 
agreeable  to  Katie,  who  liked  the  idea  of 
the  secret  passage,  and  did  not  wish  to  go 
out  of  reach  of  it. 

'•  Oh,  do  not  take  me  away  from  here !"' 
said  she,  "  I  assure  you  I  prefer  this  room 
to  any  other.  In  fact,  I  am  quite  attached 
to  it.'' 

Lopez  laughed. 

"  lieally,"  said  he, "  I  had  no  idea  that  a 
prisoner  could  become  attached  to  such  a 
gloomy  dungeon  as  this.  Ah,  scfiorita,  you 
are  jesting.  I  assure  you,  however,  that 
there  are  better  rooms  than  this  in  the 
castle,  and  in  a  few  minutes  you  shall  be 
taken  to  one.  You  shall  also  be  provid- 
ed with  proper  attendants;  for  there  are 
women  about  the  castle  who  can  wait  on 
you." 

Lopez  was  so  earnest  and  determined 
9 


that  Katie  saw  i)lainly  the  usclessncss  of 
any  further  obji'ctions,  and  therefore  mur- 
mured a  few  civil  words  of  thanks. 

Lopez  looked  i)rot'()Uiully  disappointed. 
He  had  come  iu  the  gh)ry()f  a  conqueror — 
more,  of  a  deliverer  ;  to  free  Katie  from  the 
grasp  of  a  remorseless  tyrant;  to  lireak  in 
pieces  her  chains;  to  snatch  her  from  the 
jaws  of  death.  Jle  had  expected  to  seo 
her  on  the  verge  of  despair;  he  had  fully 
counted  on  being  received  by  her  in  wild 
and  eager  excitement,  almost  like  a  mes- 
senger from  Heaven.  It  Avas  upon  all  this 
that  he  had  counted,  as  he  had  toiled  to 
effect  her  rescue.  His  task  had  been  by  no 
means  light.  Fortune  had  favored  him, 
or  else  his  toil  would  all  have  been  un- 
availing. His  rescue  of  her  in  so  short  ii 
time  was  therefore  very  near  the  miracu- 
lous. And  now  as  he  came  to  her,  affer 
all  his  efforts,  after  all  this  brilliant  suc- 
cess, with  these  hopes  and  expectations, 
he  found  his  arrival  greeted  in  the  coolest 
manner,  and  treated  as  the  most  common- 
place thing  in  the  world.  More  than  this, 
instead  of  finding  Katie  languishing  in  her 
dungeon,  he  found  her  actually  unwilling 
to  leave  it,  and  pretending  that  she  had 
an  "  attachment  for  it."  Of  course,  all  this 
was  pretence  iuid  affectation,  yet  still  there 
was  something  underneath  which  Lopez 
could  not  quite  comprehend.  For  the  pres- 
ent he  could  only  conceal  his  deep  disap- 
pointment and  vexation  as  best  he  might, 
and  arrange  his  plans  for  the  fiuure. 

After  retiring  for  a  few  minutes,  he  came 
back  witii  a  woman.  This  was  one  of  the 
women  who  had  been  captured,  and  was 
now  allowed  to  remain  on  condition  of 
service,  the  particular  service  required  of 
her  being  merely  attendance  upon  Katie. 

Lopez  here  had  a  fresh  disappointment, 
lie  had  seen  Katie's  solitary  state,  and 
thought  that  by  bringing  her  an  attendant 
he  would  give  her  pleasure.  But  to  Katie 
the  presence  of  any  attendant  was  exceed- 
ingly distasteful.  It  was  like  having  a  spy 
set  over  her.  It  was  bad  enough  to  bo 
taken  aw.ay  from  within  reach  of  those  se- 
cret passages,  but  to  be  atllicted  with  this 
attendant  and  s]iy  was  too  much. 

Lopez  noticed  her  slight  frown  and  her 
downcast  look.  He  was  surprised  once 
more,  and  more  disappointed  than  ever. 

"  And  now,  scnorita,"  said  Lopez,  "  if  you 
are  quite  ready,  I  will  show  you  the  way 
to  the  new  room,  where  you  may  stay  so 
long  as  you  remain  here." 


128 


A  CASTLE  lli  srALN. 


ii  \\ 


"  Very  well,  scilor  captiiin,"  said  Katie, 
«iuietly. 

"If  you  liave  any  luggage,  it  slmll  be 
sent  up  to-morrow," 

"  Thanks,  scfior." 

Upon  tliis  Captain  Lopez  went  out  "'itli 
the  toreli,  anel  Katie,  willi  lier  attendant, 
followed.  Sh(!  noticed,  as  she  went,  that 
there  were  marks  of  great  confusion  in  the 
castle ;  some  men  were  bound,  others  lying 
•wounded,  Avith  women  weeping  over  them ; 
others  again,  in  the  Hpanisli  uniform,  were 
lolling  about,  drinking  and  carousing. 

Kut''!  followed  Loj)ez  up-stairs,  and  here 
in  the  upper  hall  there  were  the  same  signs 
as  below,  tliough  tlie  crowd  of  men  was  not 
80  great  nor  so  noisy.  Passing  through 
this,  they  came  to  a  third  stairway,  Avhieli 
ran  up  from  one  side  of  tliis  upper  hall 
and  led  into  a  passage-way  higher  still. 
Here  Lopez  opened  a  door,  and,  on  enter- 
ing, Katie  saw  a  room  which  was  smaller 
than  those  below.  One  or  two  mats  were 
on  the  stone  floor.  There  was  a  couch  at 
one  end  covered  with  skins,  and  at  the 
other  a  large  chest.  The  room  Ijore  marks 
of  having  been  recently  occupied,  and 
Katie  thought  that  perhaps  tiie  occupant 
had  been  "  His  JIajesty." 

The  windows  here,  of  which  there  were 
several,  were  narrow  slits  like  those  below ; 
and  a  hasty  glance  showed  Katie  that  they 
looked  ilown  into  the  court -yard.  This, 
however,  gave  her  no  consolation.  It  was 
a  matter  of  iadiflcrcnce  now  where  she 
was.  Having  been  taken  away  from  the 
neighborhood  of  those  friendly  passage- 
ways, all  other  places  seemed  equally  ob- 
jectionable. Her  discontent  and  dejection 
were  evident  in  her  face,  though  she  made 
no  remark. 

"I  am  sorry,"  said  Lopez,  "deeply  sorry 
that  I  have  nothing  better  than  this  room 
to  ofler;  but  I  hope  that  before  long  we 
shall  be  able  to  leave  the  castle." 

Katie  did  not  liope  so,  and,  in  fact,  did 
not  know  whether  to  hope  so  or  not.  All 
would  depend  upon  circumstances.  And 
as  she  did  not  know  how  circumstances 
were,  and  was  not  willing  to  ask,  she  did 
not  know  what  to  say  now ;  so  she  simply 
said  the  very  non-committal  words, 

"Thanks,  senor." 

Lopez  could  tell  jjretty  well  why  she  said 
no  more  than  this.  It  was  because  she  felt 
dissatisfied  about  something  in  connection 
with  her  rescue — but  what  that  something 
was  he  could  not  conjecture.     That  was 


the  mystery  whieli  bailled  him.  However, 
he  had  sense  enough  to  see  that  his  own 
best  course  was  to  leave  her  to  her  own  de- 
vices, and  not  annoy  her  by  ill-timed  ques- 
tions.    So  he  prepared  to  depart. 

"  Senorita,"  said  he,  "  tiiis  wouuui  is  your 
attendant.  If  you  are  afraid  to  be  alone, 
she  will  sleep  in  the  room  with  you ;  but, 
if  you  prefer  it,  .she  will  not." 

'•  Oh,  I  should  so  very  much  prefer  being 
left  alone,  Captain  Lopez !"  said  Katie,  hur- 
riedly. 

Lopez  looked  surprised. 

"  Oh,  very  well,"  said  he ;  "  but  I  thought 
you  were  so  timid  that  you  wouiil  prefer 
having  some  one," 

"  Oil  no — thanks !  I'm  not  at  all  timid," 
said  Katie, 

This  was  a  new  surprise  to  Lopez,  who 
had  believed  Katie  to  be  the  most  timid 
young  lady  living.  But  he  said  notjnng 
more.  He  merely  wished  her  good-night; 
and,  having  directed  tlie  attendant  to  leave, 
he  locked  the  door  after  him  and  went 
away,  a  deeply  disappointed  and  a  deeply 
meditating  man, 

Katie  sprang  to  the  door,  held  licr  ear 
close,  and  listened  till  the  footsteps  had 
died  away.  Then  she  hurried  back.  Her 
quick  eye  had  noticed  the  fragment  of  a 
wax-candle  on  the  floor,  in  a  corner.  Some 
matches. were  lying  loosely  about,  whieli 
had  evidently  been  used  by  "  His  I^Iajesty  " 
to  light  the  royal  pipe.  With  one  of  these 
Katie  liglitcd  the  candle,  and  surveyed  the 
apartment  once  more. 

There  was  a  fireplace  hero,  deej).  but  not 
so  high  or  large  as  the  others  before  men- 
tioned. This  Katie  examined  lirst.  Alas  I 
she  saw  nothing.  The  chimney  ran  straight 
uj),  and  not  an  opening  appeared. 

After  this  she  retreated  dejectedly,  and 
examined  no  farther. 


CHAPTER  XL, 

l.\   Wincn    TIIEKE    SEEMS    SOME   CHANCE    OF  A   TKI- 
ANGCLAU  DUEL, 

IIahry  and  Ashby,  transformed  from 
bosom  friends  to  mortal  enemies,  now  oc- 
cupied tlie  same  room,  but  with  an  armed 
guard  to  prevent  further  intercourse.  Such 
intercourse  was,  however,  more  ellectually 
prevented  by  something  far  more  powerful 
than  any  armed  guard — namely,  by  mutual 
hate,  and  by  the  consciousness  that  their 


A  CASTLE  IN  Sl'AlN. 


139 


liostilc  niectinir,  tlinuL,'h  intcrniptiMl,  had 
not  bei'U  tt'rminutcd.  It  liiid  only  l)c;en 
(IctViTod ;  and  yet  Mifaiii,  at  soiiio  rutiiie 
tiiiR",  tliey  must  moot  and  settle  this  iiuar- 
rcl.  Even  this  prosjject,  however,  impor- 
tant th()iiu;h  it  was,  did  not  by  any  means 
I'onn  the  most  important  part  of  their 
tiioiifjhtM  as  they  stood  thus  apart  absorb- 
ed in  themselves.  Each  one  turned  his 
tlioughts  rather  to  tiic  events  whieh  liad 
last  occupied  ium  before  they  had  enroun- 
nred  one  anotiier;  antl  so,  while  Harry 
wandered  in  I'ancy  back  to  Katie's  room, 
Ashby  was  taken  up  with  tender  reminis- 
cences of  Dolores. 

In  tli^  ..iiii>t  of  such  sentimental  medita- 
tions, they  were  startled  by  the  sudden  out- 
burst of  that  loud  alarm  and  wild  tunnilt 
already  mentioned.  In  an  instant  they 
both  were  roused  out  of  their  abstraction, 
and  brought  back  to  the  stern  realities  of 
life.  The  guard,  too,  were  roused,  and, 
?prinf];in,i;;  to  their  feet,  they  stood  waiting 
for  orders.  But  after  a  few  minutes  the 
uproar  became  so  tremendous  that  the  po- 
sition of  the  guards  grew  unendurable, 
and  they  went  to  the  door  and  tried  to 
ojjen  it.  Tliis  they  could  not  do,  for  it 
was  fastened  on  the  outside,  so  tliat  de- 
parture from  the  room  by  that  way  was 
not  possible ;  yet  the  sounds  which  came 
to  their  ears  were  «nfRcient  to  inform  thoni 
of  the  whole  truth,  and  tell  them  that  the 
castle  liad  been  surprised  by  an  attacking 
party,  which  was  evidently  victorious. 

The  longer  they  listened  the  plainer  did 
tliis  become,  and  from  tliis  there  arose  the 
inevitable  conclusion  that  they  —  that  is, 
the  ("arlist  guard — were  prisoners.  Upon 
tliis,  restiveuess  and  uneasiness  began  to 
lie  visible  among  tliem,  ;;nd  a  dread  of 
their  coming  doom  from  the  hands  of  mer- 
(iless  enemies  quite  demoralized  them. 
They  exchanged  looks  of  terror;  they 
looked  wildly  around  to  see  if  there  were 
any  chances  of  escape ;  but  to  their  eyes 
the  stone  walls,  the  stone  floor,  the  narrow 
windows,  and  the  vaulted  roof  offered  not 
a  iliance  of  escape,  or  evtn  of  a  partial  con- 
ti'alment. 

As  for  Harry  and  Ashby,  they  passed  in 
one  instant  from  depths  of  despair  to  the 
highest  hope.  They  recognized  the  shouts 
and  the  Avatchword  of  the  Republic,  and 
tilt  that  in  the  hands  of  the  soldiers  of  the 
gnvernment  they  would  be  safe. 

Suddenly  the  door  was  opened.  Out- 
siile  were  armed  men  with  blazing  torches, 


from  among  who.n  there  advanced  into 
the  room  an  otliecr. 

'{"he  Carlists  were  iinmcdiatcly  disarmed, 
and  their  arms  taken  outside.  15ul  the  of- 
licer  took  no  notice  of  them.  His  eyes, 
searching  on  every  side,  soon  perceived 
Harry  and  Ashby,  who  had  drawn  near. 

"  Sefior  captain,"  Bau\  Harry,  "  I  rojoico 
that  you  have  eoinc;  to  save  us  front  cap- 
tivity and  death.  We  have  been  hero  as 
prisoners  for  two  or  three  days,  and  an  im- 
mense ransom  was  exacted  from  us,  whieh 
we  cotild  not  pay.  Had  you  not  come,  we 
should  undoubtedly  have  been  shot." 

Ashby  said  not  a  word.  He  had  recog- 
nized Lopez  at  a  glaiUM-,  and  dreaded  the 
worst  from  this  vengeful  enemy. 

Lopez  kept  his  eyes  tixcd  on  Ashby  as 
he  spoke,  though  he  addressed  Harry. 

"Sei"iors,"  said  lie,  "I  am  glad  that  I 
have  come  in  time  to  avert  so  horrible  a 
crime.  You,  senor,"  he  contiutied,  address- 
ing Harry,  "  may  retire  :  you  are  free.  You 
will  be  respected  and  protected  by  my  fol- 
lowers, and  may  either  go,  or  remaia  till 
our  return  to  Vittoria.  As  for  Senor  Ash- 
by, I  wish  to  have  a  brief  conversation 
with  him." 

At  this  Harry  bowed,  and  with  some 
further  expression  of  gratitude  went  out  of 
the  ti-oni  a  free  man,  his  lieart  swelling 
with  exvdtation  and  joy  and  hope. 

"  Senor  Ashby,"  said  Lopez,  "we  have 
met  again." 

Ashby  bowed. 

"  Senor  Ashbj%"  continued  Lopez,  '•  in- 
sults have  been  given  and  received  on  botli 
sides,  and  Ave  are  already  under  engage- 
ments to  liave  a  hostile  meeting.  Is  it  not 
so?" 

Ashby  bowed  again. 

Lopez  had  spoken  these  words  in  a  low 
tone,  which  was  inaudible  to  his  men.  He 
now  turned  and  ordered  them  to  withdraw, 
and  stand  outside  until  further  orders. 

They  obeyed. 

"Senor  Ashby,"  he  continued,  "  the  lady 
is  here  for  whom  we  both  arc  seeking.  It 
was  about  her  that  our  quarrel  arose." 

"  I  am  ready  now,"  said  Ashby. 

"  For  the  quarrel  V  said  Lopez.  "  Ay— 
but  I  am  not;"  and  he  gave  a  bitter  laugh. 

"A  man  of  honor,"  said  Asliby,  scornful- 
ly, "  will  always  be  ready." 

Lopez  again  gave  a  bitter  laugh. 

"  Dear  sefior,"  said  he,  "  I  have  had  too 
many  alTairs  to  be  afraid  of  risking  my  rep- 
utation as  a  man  of  honor  by  postponing 


130 


A  CASTLE  IX  SrAlN. 


our  littlf  meeting.  I  Imvo  otlior  tilings 
to  iittinil  to  llrnt.  And  first  1  nuist  liiive 
tt  little  Icisiiro  to  get  rid  ol'  tluit  bitterness 
nntl  gull  wliieh  you,  senor,  with  your  Eng- 
lish supereiliousness,  Inivo  poured  into  my 
heart.  For  a  time  you  had  your  hour  of 
triumph,  and  I  was  made  to  fuel  by  you  all 
the  insolent  su])eriority  of  ii  man  of  wealth 
over  a  man  of  the  jjeople.  Hut  now,  sefior, 
our  positions  have  changed.  I  have  the 
power,  unci  you  arc  nothing.  Even  your 
wealth  will  not  save  you;  for  wliile  you 
nre  my  prisoner  all  the  gold  of  Mexico 
will  bo  unavailing  to  deliver  you  until  I 
clioose." 

Ashby  had  now  a  sudden  thought  that 
his  jjosition  was  very  peculiar  and  very  un- 
enviable, lie  had  just  quarrelled  with  his 
best  friend,  and  had  just  been  saved  from 
nuirdering  him,  for  the  sake  of  a  girl  whom 
he  hail  ceased  to  love  (or  whom  he  be- 
lieved he  had  ceased  to  love,  which  was 
the  same  thing  just  then) ;  and  now  here 
was  another  of  Katie's  numerous  lovers, 
full  of  love  and  jealousy  —  the  one  as 
strong  as  death,  the  other  as  cruel  as  the 
grave;  wliicli  lover  was  evidently  now  re- 
garding him  as  a  tiger  regards  his  help- 
less victim,  and  was  playing  with  him  for 
a  time,  so  as  to  enjoy  his  torments  before 
devouring  him.  These  thoughts  passed 
through  his  mind,  and  he  had  nothing  to 
say. 

"  Sefior,"  said  Lopez,  "  our  quarrel  was 
about  that  young  lady,  and  our  meet- 
ing may  take  place  at  any  time.  For  the 
present,  I  have  to  say  that  if  you  will  con- 
sent to  give  up  all  claim  to  her  hand  and 
leave  the  castle,  I  7-i.:  send  you  at  once 
■with  a  sullicient  gv.ar;l  to  any  place  you 
name,  or  to  the  nearest  station.  But  if 
not,  then  I  shall  be  under  the  painful  ne- 
cessity or  detaining  you." 

"  May  I  ask,"  said  Ashby,  "  upon  what 
ground  you  propose  to  detain  rac  ?" 

"  Certainly,"  said  Lope/.  "  I  arrest  you 
as  a  spy." 

"  A  spy  !" 

"  Certainly.  What  arc  you  doing  here  ? 
You  were  seized  by  tlie  Carlists,  it  is  true, 
but  what  of  that?  You  may  have  be- 
trayed your  party  to  them.  I  find  you 
coming  North  on  no  good  or  reasonable 
errand.  You  certainly  were  following  that 
party — as  a  spy,  or  somctiiing  like  it  —  in 
your  private  hiterests.  I  am  therefore  at 
liberty  to  arrest  you  as  a  spy,  perhaps  in 
league  with  the  enemies  of  Spain.    It  is  a 


charge  of  which  I  run  prove  you  guilty, 
ami  for  which  you  will  be  shot." 

"And  that  is  a  gentleman's  satisfac- 
tion !"  said  Ashl)y,  with  a  sneer. 

"Gentlemen,"  said  Lopez,  "obtain  satis- 
faction  in  many  ways.  It  will  give  nw 
no  small  satisfaction,  for  instance,  to  know 
that  you  are  here  w  hile  I  urge  my  suit  for 
the  you;ig  lady's  hand,  for  which  I  h\\v 
the  gooil  wishes  anil  co-operation  of  'nr 
guardiar.  It  will  give  nie  no  Rumll  satis- 
faction to  inform  you  when,  as  she  siu'cly 
will,  she  grants  me  liir  consent;  and,  final- 
ly, the  highest  satisfaction  of  all  will  he 
alVordcd  when  I  request  your  jjrescnce  at 
our  wedding —a  compliment  which,  I  uia 
sure,  sefior,  you  will  ajiprcciatc.  For. 
sefior,  we  shall  be  married  here,  and  im- 
mcdi"tely,  siiu'c  I  have  brought  a  priest 
with  me,  so  .is  to  put  the  whole  matter  be- 
yond the  reach  of  accident." 

Having  Ih'cd  otV  this  heavy  shot.  Lopez 
watched  to  see  the  effect  ujion  his  vic- 
tim. 

Ashby  showed  not  the  slightest  emotion. 
Neither  in  face  nor  in  gesture  did  he  evince 
any  agitation  whatever;  nor  in  his  voiei', 
for  he  said,  in  a  perfectly  cool  and  indiiVtr- 
ent  way, 

"  Very  well,  scnor.  I  can  do  nothing 
against  all  that." 

Lopez  felt  disajipointed.  He  had  ex- 
pected to  see  agonies  depicted  on  his  help- 
less victim,  and  to  exult  in  the  sight.  But 
he  concluded  that  this  was  owing  to  Ash- 
by's  "  English  phlegm,"  and  that  he  was 
thus  preserving,  like  the  Indian  at  the 
stake,  a  proudly  calm  exterior,  while  really 
sutl'ering  torments  of  hidden  ])ain. 

"  Since  you  arc  so  calm,"  said  Lopez 
again,  "perhaps  you  will  consent  to  pur- 
cliasc  your  freedom  by  formally  relinquisii- 
ing  all  claim  to  that  young  lady's  haml. 
That  is  the  shortest  way  of  regaining  your 
liberty,  and  it  will  be  quite  satisfactory 
to  me." 

Lopez  spoke  this  in  an  ironical  tone, 
taunting  Ashby  thus  on  his  cool  dcnieannr. 

Now,  the  giving  up  of  all  claims  to  Ka- 
tie was  in  itself  so  far  from  being  repug- 
nant to  Ashby,  that,  as  the  reader  knows, 
he  had  already  virtually  renounced  her, 
and  formally,  too,  by  word  of  mouth  to 
Dolores.  But  to  do  this  to  Lopez  was  a 
far  different  thing.  It  would,  he  felt,  he 
base;  it  would  be  cowardly;  it  would  he 
a  vile  piece  of  truckling  to  an  enemy,  who 
would  exult  over  it  to  the  end  of  his  days. 


A  CASTLE 

The  id  I'll  could  uol  bo  cutcrtulned  lor  u 
inoiucitt. 

"  Seftor."  8uul  Ashby,  with  his  usunl  cool- 
luss,  " you  nrc  well  iiwnrc  tliiit,  apart  tVoin 
all  otluT  coiLsidcrutions,  your  proposition 
could  not  lio  cntertuiucd  Ibr  a  mumcnt  by 
a  man  of  lionor." 

"  I'criiapH  not,"  said  Lopez;  "but  I  liad 
to  make  nu'iition  of  it,  merely  as  a  form, 
and  not  supposing  that  you  would  enter- 
tain il."' 

"1  am  in  tlic  hands  of  fortune,"  said 
Aslihy :  "I'll  take  my  ehanees  a3  they 
come." 

Upon  this  Lopez  said  notliinc,'  more,  but, 
witii  a  formal  adieu,  took  his  departure. 
Ashby  was  left  with  the  nix  unarmed  Car- 
list  i)risoncr3. 


IN  SPAIN. 


131 


CHAPTER   XLL 

i;;)\v  TUK  rxii.vri'Y  ufssixL  kinds  tiik  daxgku 

OF   ri.AYl.NO   WITH    KUOE-IOOLS. 

WiiKN  Lopez,  witii  the  assistance  of  Rita, 
liad  burst  into  tiie  casth",  ho  hud  left  liis 
prisoners  in  the  tower  in  the  char-.^c  of 
a  couple  of  guards,  these  i^risoners  being 
iirooke,  Talbot,  and  Russell.  During  the 
attack  on  tlie  castle  there  was  a  tiur'i  in 
which  Russell  migiit  very  easily  have  es- 
capeil.  The  two  guards  were  eager  to  join 
tiio  melee,  and  as  their  instructions  had 
reference  princiiialjy  to  Brooke  and  Talbot, 
they  paiil  no  attention  whatever  to  tiie 
■  Hungarian  lady."  They  knew  that  Rita 
liad  done  an  act  for  •".iueli  the  captain 
would  reward  her,  and  concluded  that  the 
•  Hungarian  lady"  was  a  friend  rather  than 
.1  jirisoner.  Under  such  circumstances  es- 
cai)o  would  have  been  easy  enougli  to  Rus- 
sell, had  he  been  l.iold  enough  to  attempt 
it. 

Yet,  after  all,  how  could  he  really  es- 
cape ?  To  go  back  over  the  same  road 
would  be  only  to  encounter  fresh  perils, 
perliaps  worse  than  any  with  which  he 
liad  met  hitherto.  To  go  in  any  other  di- 
rection would  be  simjile  madness.  There 
was,  therefore,  no  other  course  open  to  him 
tlian  to  remain  where  he  was. 

After  a  long  time  some  of  the  men  came 
l>aek,  at  the  command  of  Lopez,  with  orders 
to  bring  the  prisoners  into  the  castle.  The 
Ruard  obeyed  and  followed,  taking  with 
tliem  Brooke  and  Talbot.  Russell  was 
iiliout  to  accompany  them,  and  was  just 


hesitating  as  to  the  patli,  when  suddenly 
he  found  himself  coufionted  by  Rita,  who 
Inid  Just  come  up. 

"ILs-3-s-sh:"  slie  said.  "All  is  safe.  I 
liaf  my  reward.  Tiie  captain  haf  pay  me. 
Now  we  siiall  go.    Alia  right.     Come  !" 

Russell  felt  a  strange  sinking  of  hcnrt. 
As  to  going  away  witii  lier,  tliat  was  not 
to  i>e  tiionght  of,  and  he  only  sought  now 
ibr  some  plausible  excuse. 

"  I — Pui  too  tired,"  he  said  ;  "  Pin  worn 
out,  Rita.     I  cannot  walk." 

"Bah!"  said  she.  "Come  —  you  shall 
not  go  I'ar:  I  take  you  to  where  you  shall 
restar." 

"But  I'm  tired,"  said  Russell.  "I  want 
to  rest  here." 

"  Bah  !  you  not  too  tired  to  go  one  two 
mile;  that  not  mooch  to  go.     Come  I'' 

"I  can't,"  whined  Russell. 

"But  you  will  be  captar — you  shall  be  a 
j)re('sonaire — you  shall  be  deescovairc— alia 
found  out  liy  the  capitan;  so  come  —  fly, 
you  haf  no  time  to  lose." 

"  I  can't  help  it,"  said  Russell,  in  despair. 
"  If  Pm  caught  again  1  don't  care,  I'm 
worn  out." 

"  But  you  moos !" 

"  I  can't." 

"Come — I  shall  carry  you;  I  .'-.hall  llfta 
you,  and  carry  you  to  your  safetydom. 
Come !'' 

"It's  impossible,"  said  Russell,  who,  in 
add'tion  to  liis  fear,  began  to  feel  vexation 
at  this  woman's  pertinacitj*. 

Tiiere  was  something  in  his  tone  which 
made  Rita  pause.  She  stood  erect,  folded 
her  arms,  and  looked  at  him.  The  moon- 
light fell  on  both.  Each  could  see  the 
other.  Russell  did  not  I'ecl  pleased  with 
her  appearance.  She  looked  too  hard — 
too  austeit?.  S!ie  seemed  to  have  an  un- 
limited possibility  of  daring  and  of  ven- 
geance, lie  liegan  to  think  that  he  had 
been  playing  with  edgo-tools,  and  that  in 
trying  to  make  use  of  Rita  lie  had  only 
gained  a  new  master  for  himself.  The 
vague  fears  wliicli  had  been  gathering 
through  the  day  now  grew  stronger,  and 
he  realized  his  full  danger. 

"  You  not  want  to  fly  ?  You  not  w;;nt  to 
'scape  ?"  said  Rita,  with  a  frown. 

Russell  thought  it  best  to  ov.-n  up. 

"  Well,  n-n-no,"  said  he.  "  On  tlie  whole, 
I  do  not." 

"  Why  ?"  asked  Rita,  in  a  hard  voice. 

"Oh  — well  —  I've — I've  —  I've  changed 
my  niiud,"  s,iid  Russell,  in  a  trembling 


132 


A  CASTLE  IN  SPAIN. 


voice.    lie  begau  to  be  more  afraid  of  llitii 
than  ever. 

'•Ah!"  said  Rita.  "It  is  so — very  well. 
Now  leest'n  to  me ;  look  at  me.  What 
haf  I  doue?  I  liaf  betray  my  maestro  —  I 
Li.f  betray  my  friends  :  this  castle  is  took ; 
my  iVieiuls  arc  run  away,  many  of  them 
dead;  their  bodies  are  over  there  —  they 
are  dead.  Who  kill  them  ?  I— 1  the  traid- 
or!  I  the  Judas!  I  betray!  Andwliy^ 
I  Ijetray — because  you  tempt  me  !  Do  you 
know  that  ?  You  tempt  me  I  You  ask 
me  to  helpa  you!  you  promise  me  all  tlie 
world!  I  helpa  you!  I  make  mysof  a 
traiilor,  and  now  it  haf  come  to  this! 

"Wliere  arc  my  friends  f  continued 
Rita.  "  G(me !  fled  !  dead  !  Ttiey  sail  liaunt 
me — their  ghosts — they  sail  call  for  ven- 
ganza ;  and  I  haf  make  mysef  a  traidor  to 
the  friends  tliat  lofe  me  an'  was  kind ! 
Sec  me,  what  I  am  !  You  haf  make  me  to 
this  —  you!  j-on  I  you!  What!  do  you 
think  I  sail  let  you  uirn  false  to  me  ?  No  ! 
uevaire  I  You  sidl  be  true  to  me — wliat- 
evaire!  You  haf  promis  to  gif  me  all  the 
world.  You  Iiaf  promis  to  gif  me  you'- 
selfa.  You  sail  be  what  you  say  —  'my 
man  !'  I  sail  haf  the  recompensa,  if  I  die 
from  rcmordimiento.  If  you  be  a  traidor 
to  me,  I  sail  haf  tlie  venganza  !*' 

During  this  wild  harangue  Rita  seemed 
transported  to  fury  —  she  seemed  a  mad- 
wonuin.  Russell  trembled  in  cv(  ry  limb 
from  sheer  terror.  lie  never  liad  in  all  his 
life  seen  anything  like  this.  His  only  ho]ic 
now  was  to  esca]ie  from  her  insane  rage, 
no  matter  under  whose  protection. 

At  length  she  stopped  and  grew  calmer. 
Then  she  said,  in  a  low,  stern  voice  : 

"  Now— will  you  come  ?    Will  you  fly  ?" 

Russell  shuddered  more  than  ever.  Fly  ? 
Not  he !  She  might  tear  liim  to'  pieces,  but 
ho  would  never  fly  with  her.  Fly?  Why, 
it  was  impossible  !  lie  miglit,  indeed,  fly 
from  her ;  but  as  to  flying  leith  her,  that 
could  not  be  thought  of 

He  shrunk  back,  trembling  in  every  limb, 

"I  can't,"  he  said  —  "I  can't;  I'm  too 
weak — Tm  old — and  weak  and  worn  out." 

"Rut  I  say,"  continued  Rita,  impatient- 
ly, "  that  I  sail  take  you  to  a  place  where 
you  sail  restar." 

"I  can't,"  said  RussclL 

"Do  you  inteiidar  to  keep  jou  prom- 
eeso  ?" 

"What  promise?"  said  Russell,  hesitat- 
ingly. 

"  To  marry  me,"  said  Rita,  coldly. 


"  JIarry  you  !  I  never  said  that,"  replied 
Russell. 

"You  did," 

"  I  did  not.  I  have  a  wife  living — you 
know  that  surely.     She  is  in  the  castle," 

"She?  Bah!  She  is  dead.  I  know 
that,"  said  Rita,  triumphantly. 

Russell  shuddered  more  than  ever.  Dead ! 
dead  I  he  thought.  What  a  thought  of 
horror!  And  how?  Was  it  this  woman 
that  did  the  deed — this  flend  from  tiio 
robbers'  hold  —  to  make  room  for  herself; 
Russell  felt  that  she  was  capaljle  of  any 
enormity,  and  liis  soul  sickened  at  the 
thought.    He  groaned,  and  was  silent. 

"  Dead,  I  tell  you  !  dead  !  She  is  dead  I 
Aha  !  you  think  me  fool,  simple,  aha  !  But 
I  know,  I  know  to  take  car'  of  the  numlier 
one  !    Aha !  how  j-ou  like  that,  meestaire  ; 

"And  now  leest'n,"  conti^iued  Rita.  "  You 
not  fly  ?  Very  well.  You  sail  come  to  the 
castle.  You  sail  stay  with  the  capitaii. 
You  sidl  tell  liim  all— I  tell  him  all.  He 
sail  judge  and  decidar.  Come!  come! 
You  sail  not  stay  here.  You  sail  go  and 
restar  you  old  bone," 

Rita  motioned  to  him  sternly  to  follow, 
and  Russell  obcj'cd.  He  was  not  nt  all 
disinclined  to  move  in  this  direction,  since 
it  led  him  to  the  friendly  protection  of  the 
castle.  It  was  with  uncommon  vigor  and 
nimbleness  that  he  followed  bis  tormentor 
down  tlie  steep  side,  and  across  the  brook 
at  the  bottom,  and  up  the  other  side,  Rita 
noticed  this,  and  said,  scornfully  : 

"  You  too  weak  to  go  one  two  mile  on  the 
level  groun'.  but  you  strong  enough  to  de- 
seendar  and  ascendar  these  dill".  But  wiiii, 
ola  man — remember  if  you  falsaini  I  sail  haf 
my  venganza.  Now  you  go  and  spik  to 
the  capitan,  and  you  sec  what  he  sail  do  for 
you." 

Rita  said  no  more,  but  led  Russell  aloniz 
until  they  reached  the  castle.  There  Rus- 
sell seate<l  him.self  on  the  stone  floor  among 
the  soldiers,  feeling  safer  here  than  any- 
where, wiiile  Rita  went  away,  Russell 
supposed  that  she  liad  gone  in  search  of 
Lopez  to  tell  her  own  story  first. 

He  was  right,  Lopez  had  been  very 
busy,  but  Rita  was  able,  after  all,  to  obtain 
a  hearing  from  him  sulficiently  long  to  en- 
able her  to  plead  her  cause  in  her  own 
way.     She  told  Lopez  all. 

Now  Lor"'  was  under  great  obligations 
to  Rita,  and  was  willing  to  do  almost  any- 
thing \'o)!  her.  At  the  same  time,  he  was 
the  bitter  enemy  of  Russell.    Here  there 


I 


A  CASTLE  IN   SPAIN. 


133 


was  an  opportuuity  open  to  him  to  evince 
gratitude  and  to  obtain  vengeance.  He 
appreciated  the  situation  most  fully.  He 
promised  Kita  that  he  wouUl  do  wliatever 
she  wished. 

"I  only  wish  one  thing,"  said  Rita: 
"make  liini  keep  his  promise." 

"  I  will,"  said  Lopez. 

"  Will  you  make  him  marry  me  ?" 

"I  will,"  said  Lopez.  "I  have  a  priest 
here.  I  have  brought  him  liere,  for  I  ex- 
jiect  to  be  married  myself  to  a  lady  whom 
I  have  long  loved  in  vain.  I  have  rescued 
her  from  these  foul  brigands,  and  she  will 
not  now  refuse  me.  Ami  I  promise,  Rita, 
tiiat  you  shall  be  married  to  your  dear  one 
at  the  same  time  that  I  am  married  to 
mine,  and  by  the  same  priest." 

Upon  this  Rita  was  voluble  in  the  ex- 
pression of  her  gratitude. 

Lopez  now  wen',  to  seek  out  Russell.  He 
found  the  good  man  wearied  and  worn  out. 
He  led  him  away  to  a  room  that  happened 
to  be  the  very  one  in  which  he  was  con- 
fined before.  Brooke  and  Talljot  were  both 
here.  Russell  entreated  Brooke  to  inter- 
cede for  him  with  Lopez.  Lopez  saw  the 
action  and  understood  it. 

"  What  does  he  want  ?"  said  Lopez. 

Russell  then  explained,  through  Brooke, 
what  Lopez  had  already  learned  tlirough 
Rita,  namely,  that  he  was  Mr.  Russell,  and 
that  Rita  was  claiming  his  fulfilment  of  a 
promise  whicli  lie  had  never  made,  and 
could  never  fulfil — first,  on  the  ground  that 
Rita  had  not  freed  him ;  and,  secondly,  on 
the  more  important  ground  that  he  was  al- 
ready married. 

To  all  this  the  answer  of  Lopez  was  brief 
and  stern. 

"  8he  did  free  you,"  said,  he,  "  for  you  are 
now  out  of  the  power  of  the  Carlists,  and 
may  bo  your  own  master  on  the  perform- 
ance of  your  iiroiiiise.  jNIoreovcr,  as  to 
your  being  married  already,  Rita  assures 
me  that  your  former  wife  is  dead.  " 

At  this  Russell  groaned. 

"  She  is  not  dead,"  he  said. 

"Oh,  well,"  said  Lopez,  "I  don't  care. 
Rita  is  willing  to  run  the  risk." 

Russell  now  jileaded  for  Katie's  sake. 

But  this  roused  Lopez  to  worse  anger. 

"  If  you  were  merely  a  cruel  father,  '  said 
he, "  I  would  forgive  yoa  for  lier  sake ;  but 
you  are  a  guardian,  and  not  over-honest,  as 
I  believe.  Shft  has  no  love  for  you.  She 
never  wishes  to  see  you  again.  Nor  do  I. 
You  are  nothing  to  her.    She  is  nothing  to 


you.  You  have  made  your  bed,  and  must 
lie  on  it.  Y'ou  must  blame  yourself,  and 
not  me." 

With  these  words  Lopez  retired,  leaving 
the  unhappy  Russell  in  a  condition  that 
may  be  better  imagined  than  described. 


CHAPTER  XLH. 

IN    WHICH     DOLOHKS     ItKAri'K.VIW     IN    THK     ACT    OF 
M.VKIXO   A   r.ElONNOlTllE. 

IIakuy  had  already  been  set  free,  but 
Ashby  was  held  as  a  prisoner.  At  first  he 
remained  in  the  room  where  Lojjcz  had 
found  him,  along  with  the  Carlist  guard, 
but  after  a  few  hours  he  was  removed  to 
another  chamber.  This  was  chiefly  to  pre- 
vent any  possible  attempt  at  escape  which 
Ashby  might  make  witli  the  assistance  of 
the  other  prisoners,  who,  knowing  the  weak 
points  of  the  castle,  might  be  able,  with  a 
bold  leader,  to  strike  I'u  effective  blow  for 
liiierty. 

The  moonbeams  now  were  streaming  in 
upon  the  stone  floor  where  the  six  Carlist 
prisoners  were  lying.  They  were  sound 
aslee]),  and  their  deep  breathing  was  the 
only  sound  that  might  be  heard.  Two  of 
them  were  in  the  bed,  the  other  four  were 
on  the  floor.  But  these  men  were  used  to 
roughing  it,  and  on  the  flinty  pavement 
they  slept  as  soundly  as  on  a  bed  of  down. 

Suddenly,  in  the  neighborhood  of  the 
chimney,  there  was  a  slight  noise. 

No  one  in  the  room  heard  it,  for  they 
were  all  sleeping  too  soumlly. 

The  noise  ceased  for  a  time ;  then  it  was 
-encwed.  It  was  a  rustling,  sliding  sound, 
as  of  some  living  thing  moving  there. 

After  this  the  noise  ceased. 

There  was  another  long  pause. 

Then  came  a  whisper — 

No  one  heard.  The  sleepers  were  all  far 
away  in  the  land  of  dreams. 

The  whisper  was  repeated: 

"^l,wW.'" 

There  was  no  answer.  Nor  did  any  of 
the  sleepers  awake.  Out  of  such  a  sound 
sleep  nothing  could  awaken  them  that  was 
of  the  nature  of  a  mere  whisper. 

Of  course  tJiis  moving  body  was  our 
friend  Dolores.  There  is  no  need  to  make 
a  mystery  of  it.  She  alone  now  had  access 
to  this  room ;  she  alone  would  come  here. 
She  alone,  having  como  here,  would  utter 
that  one  word, 


134 


A  CASTLE  IN  SPAIN. 


It  was  Dolores. 

She  lijul  come  back  to  this  room  to  seek 
after  Asliby,  to  see  Iiiin ;  if  not,  tlien  to 
Iieur  of  him,  and,  if  possible,  to  help  him. 

After  assisting  "  His  Majesty  "  to  eft'eet 
his  royal  escape,  Dolores  had  thought  fur  a 
few  moments  of  surrendering  herself.  Af- 
ter further  thought,  however,  she  had  con- 
cluded not  to.  Hhe  saw  that  nothing  could 
be  gained,  and  much  miglit  be  risked  by 
such  an  act.  The  knowledge  which  slie 
had  of  all  the  interior  of  the  castle  gave 
her  an  iunnensc  advantage  so  long  as  she 
was  free;  and  until  she  saw  how  things 
were  it  would  be  better  for  her  to  remain 
free.  There  would  be  great  danger  in  con- 
tiding  too  readily,  fehe  knew  that  the  Re- 
publicans were  no  better  than  the  Carlists, 
and  perhaps  these  were  merely  a  rival  band 
of  the  same  ferocious  marauders.  Ashby, 
being  a  foreigner,  was  perhaps  in  as  great 
danger  as  ever;  and  if  so,  she  should  pre- 
serve her  freedom,  so  as  to  be  able  to  help 
liim. 

This  was  a  very  sensible  decision;  but  as 
Dolores  was  a  very  sensible  girl,  and  a  very 
brave  one  too,  it  was  only  natural  that  slie 
should  have  decided  in  this  way. 

After  waiting  until  tiie  noise  in  the  cas- 
tle had  ceased,  Dolores  approached  the 
room  and  reached  the  place  of  descent. 
Here  she  waited  and  listened. 

She  heard  the  deep  l)reatlnn  i;  of  the 
sleepers.  By  this  she  knew  that  several 
men  were  now  in  the  room. 

But  was  Ashby  there  ? 

She  could  not  tell. 

That  he  was  not  asleep  she  felt  sure.  lie 
would  be  expecting  her.  at  any  rate ;  and 
that  would  serve  to  keep  him  awake. 

She  determined  to  try  still  further.  So 
she  began,  as  cautiously  as  possible,  to 
make  the  descent.  She  succeeded  in  doing 
this  without  awaking  any  of  the  sleepers. 
For  a  while  she  stood  in  the  deep,  impen- 
etrable shadow  and  surveyed  the  apart- 
ment. She  saw,  where  the  moonbeams  fell, 
the  outline  of  figures  on  the  flo(.!  and  on 
the  bed.  The  remoter  parts  of  the  cham- 
ber were  hid  in  gloom. 

Then  she  called,  in  a  low  and  penetrating 
whisper, 

"  Assebi !" 

There  was  no  answer. 

Dolores  now  felt  sure  that  Ashby  was 
not  there ;  but  in  order  to  make  assurance 
doubly  sure,  she  repeated  the  call. 


There  was  still  no  answer;  and  now  Do- 
lores felt  certain  that  ho  had  been  taken 
away. 

Once  more  she  determined  to  satisfy  her- 
self as  to  the  people  who  were  in  the  room. 
It  was  a  hazardous  thing  to  do,  but  it  had 
to  be  done.  She  must  see.  She  had  match- 
es in  her  pocket.  She  resolved  to  throw  a 
little  light  on  the  subject. 

She  struck  a  match.  The  ilame  Inirrt 
forth.  Holding  it  above  her  head,  Dolores 
peered  into  the  room.  The  tlanie  illumined 
the  whole  a))artmcnt.  A  second  or  two 
was  enough  to  show  iier  the  whole.  There 
were  six  men.  They  were  Carlists.  They 
were  prisoners.  Ashby  had  been  taken 
away. 

So  much  was  plain  enough. 

Ashby  was  not  there.  He  Jiad  been  re- 
moved— but  how  ?  That  Mas  the  question, 
and  a  most  imjjortant  one.  Was  he  free, 
or  Mas  he  still  a  prisoner?  This  must  be 
ascertained  before  Dolores  could  decide 
anything.  It  M'as  not  a  question  to  be  de- 
cid  'd  by  mere  conjecture.  It  M'as  certain- 
ly Y  -^11)10  that  the  captors  of  the  castle, 
finding  these  prisoners  held  captive  by  the 
Carlists,  liad  releafcL-d  them  all;  and  if  so, 
it  M-as  all  very  m'cH  ;  but  Dolores  kncM-  the 
suspicious  nature  of  her  countrymen,  and 
felt  very  much  inclined  to  doubt  Mhether 
they  had  set  tlie  prisoners  free  upon  the 
spot.  They  were  foreigners,  and  she  knew 
that  Spaniards  of  every  party  Mould  con- 
sider that  a  sufficient  excuse  for  detaining 
them. 

The  only  M'ny  in  M-hich  she  could  satisfy 
her  curiosity  and  decide  upon  her  own 
future  course  M'as  by  communicating  with 
these  Carlist  prisoners,  and  learning  the 
truth  from  them. 

But  how  ? 

They  were  sleeping  so  soundly  that 
something  louder  far  than  any  ordinary 
cry  Mould  be  needed  to  reach  their  ears. 
To  call  to  them  M'ould,  therefore,  ha  useless. 
Some  other  M'ay  M'ould  have  to  be  adopt- 
ed. But  in  M'hat  M'ay  ?  That  Mas  the  ques- 
tion that  Dolores  had  now  to  answer. 
There  Mas  only  one  M'ay.  A  risk  must  be 
run.  It  could  not  be  helped.  She  would 
have  to  rouse  them,  and  the  most  effective 
May,  as  M'ell  as  the  one  most  inaudible  to 
those  M'ithout,  M'ould  be  to  venture  into  the 
room  and  rouse  them  in  some  M'ay  by  touch. 

A  rapiil  view  of  all  the  risks  of  the  case 
made  her  resolve  to  encounter  them.  She 
felt  able  to  aM'akc  the  sleepers  without  l)c- 


A  CASTLE  IN  SPAIN. 


135 


ing  (liscovcrcd,  and  quickly  made  up  her 
mind. 

Gliding  swiftly  and  noiselessly  to  the 
nearest  sleei)er,  Dolores  caught  his  hair, 
and  giving  it  a  sudden,  violent  pull,  she 
darted  back  as  quickly,  Ijcibre  she  could 
be  discovered. 

It  was  cflectual. 

The  sleeper  started  up  with  a  violent 
oath,  and  began  abusing  bis  comrade.  This 
one  also  awaked,  and  a  lierce  altercation 
went  on  between  them,  wherein  the  one 
charged  the  other  with  pulling  his  hair, 
and  tlio  other  denied  it  \Yith  oaths.  In  the 
midst  of  this  Dolores  had  ascended  into  the 
passage-way,  and  stood  there  waiting  for 
a  chance  to  be  heard.  At  length  the  noise 
subsided,  and  the  two  began  to  settle 
tliemselves  for  sleep,  when  Dolores,  seizing 
the  opportunity,  called  out,  in  a  low  but 
clear  and  distinct  voice, 

"  Viva  el  Rey  !" 

Tlie  Carlists  heard  it. 

"What's  that?"  cried  one. 

"  Some  one's  in  the  room,"'  cried  tlie 
other. 

"  Viva  el  Rey  !"  said  Dolores  once  more, 
in  the  same  tone. 

At  this  the  two  men  started  to  their  feet. 

•'  Who  goes  there  T'  said  one,  in  a  low- 
voice. 

'•  A  friend,"  said  Dolores. 

"  AVhcrc  ?"  asked  the  man,  in  surprise. 

"  Come  to  the  chimney,"  said  Dolores. 

Tlie  two  men  went  there,  till  they  reach- 
ed the  fireplace. 

"  Where  are  you  V  asked  they. 

Dolores  did  not  think  it  necessary  to  tell 
tliem  the  truth  just  yet. 

"  I'm  in  the  room  above,"  said  she.  "  I'm 
speaking  through  an  opening  in  the  tlue. 

I  can  help  you,  if  you  will  be  cautious  and 
patient." 

"  Who  are  you  ?" 

"A  prisoner.  I  know  the  way  out.  I 
can  help  you.  Be  cautious.  Is  the  Eng- 
lish prisoner  with  you  J" 

"!No,"  said  the  Carlist,  wondering  what 
fori  of  a  prisoner  this  could  i)e,  and  why 
tliis  prisoner  asked  after  the  Englishman. 

Dclores  questioned  them  further,  and  the 
men  told  uU  they  knew.  They  had  over- 
lieard  the  words  that  had  passed  between 
Ashby  and  Lopez,  and  told  what  they  lind 
heard. 

From  these  Dolores  gained  new  light 
upon  the  facts  of  the  case.     Having  been 

II  witness  to  the  scene  in  tlic  station  at 


iladrid,  she  at  once  perceived  that  this 
enemy  of  Ashby's  could  be  no  other  than 
that  man  in  civilian  dress,  but  of  military 
aspect,  with  whom  he  had  had  the  <piarrel, 
who  had  been  forced  to  leave  the  carriage 
of  the  Russells.  This  uuin  had  travelled 
in  the  same  train.  He  had  been  captured, 
plundered,  and  then  set  free  with  the  oth- 
er Spaniards.  Dolores  conjectured  that  he 
had  obtained  some  soldiers,  surprised  the 
castle,  and  freed  Katie.  She  also  felt  that 
Ashby  was  now  a  prisoner  once  more,  in 
the  hands  not  of  a  mere  robber,  but  of  his 
bitterest  enemy. 

Thus  the  whole  truth  Ihislicd  ui)on  her 
mind. 

But  where  was  Ashby  ? 

That  she  could  not  tell  as  yet.  She 
could  only  hope,  and  make  plans. 

"  Can  we  come  up  to  you  ?"  asked  the 
Carlists. 

"No,"  said  Dolores.  "Besides,  there's 
no  escape  here.  I  can  come  to  you,  and  I 
will  do  so  before  long.  Do  not  sleep  too 
soundly.  Do  not  wake  the  others.  Be 
ready  to  act  when  I  come." 

Tlie  men  readily  promised  this. 

"  But  why  can't  wo  go  now  ?  why  can't 
you  help  us  now  ?"'  they  asked. 

"  We  can't  go  away  I'rom  this,"  said  Do- 
lores, "  without  the  English  prisoner.  But 
with  him  wo  shall  surely  escajjc ;  so  be 
ready  to  act  when  I  give  the  word." 


CHAPTER  XLIII. 

now  KATI.'.  FEELS  DEJECTED,  AND  UOW  LOrEX  FEELS 
DLSArrOINTED. 

TiiKiiK  is  no  need  to  enlarge  ujion  Ka- 
tie's feelings,  as  she  sat  in  her  lonely  cham- 
ber, buried  in  thoughts  which  were  both 
sweet  and  painful.  Wc  all  know  perfectly 
well  what  they  must  have  been,  for  wc  all 
understand  about  that  sort  of  thing.  We've 
dreamed  love's  j-oung  dream,  you  and  I, 
haven't  we  ?  and  so  we'll  let  this  pass.  As 
for  Katie,  I'm  afraid  she  must,  in  her  short 
experience,  from  all  appearances,  have 
dreamed  a  great  many  of  love's  young 
dreams;  but  never  among  all  her  dreams 
nr  waking  thoughts  had  she  known  a  sad- 
der or  more  sorrowful  hour  than  the  pres- 
ent. Even  her  soul — volatile,  buoyant,  and 
lively — found  it  imi)ossil)le  for  a  time  to 
rail}'.  She  sat  with  clasped  hands  and 
bowed  head,  looking  care-worn,  dejected, 
and  utterly  miserable ;  and  it  was  in  this 


13G 


A  CASTLE  IN  SPAIN. 


state  of  niiiul  that  Lopez  found  her  ou  the 
following  niorninj,'. 

He  felt  again  disappointed  (in  fact,  Lo- 
pez was  a[)parcntly  always  feeling  disap- 
pointed), though  why  he  should  feel  so  is 
somewhat  singular,  since  Katie  would  have 
been  more  than  human,  or  less,  if  she  had 
shown  a  joyous  face  in  such  a  situation. 

Lopez  gave  a  sigh  by  way  of  salutation. 
Katie  ditl  not  look  up,  but  knew  perfectly 
Avell  who  it  was  and  what  he  wanted. 

"  I  hope  you  have  found  this  room  more 
comfortaljie  than  the  last,"  he  began  at 
length,  after  the  usual  salutation. 

"  I'm  sure  I  don't  see  what  comfort  one 
can  e.xpect  in  sucli  a  place  as  tliis,"  was 
the  reply. 

"I'm  sorry  that  I  haven't  anything  bet- 
ter to  offer,"  said  Lopez;  "anything  that  is 
in  my  power  to  grant  I  will  do  for  you." 

"Those  are  merely  i<lle  words,"  said  Ka- 
tie. "There  is  one  thing,  and  one  only, 
that  I  wish,  and  that  you  can  give:  that 
one  thing  you  have  no  right  to  keep  from 
me,  and  yet  it  is  useless  to  ask  you  for  it." 

"  Useless — oh,  do  not  say  that !  Tell  me 
what  it  is.'' 

"  3Iy  freedom,"  said  Katie,  eamestlj'. 

"  Freedom  !"  said  Lopez ;  "  why,  you  are 
free — free  as  a  bird  I" 

"  Yes.  as  a  bird  in  a  cage,"  was  the  bit- 
ter r('i)ly. 

"  Ladies  must  always  be  under  some  re- 
straint," said  Lopez :  "  otherwise  you  arc 
perfectly  free." 

"  This,  sir,''  said  Katie,  hotly,  "  I  consid- 
er insult ;  it  is  nothing  less  than  mockery 
at  my  di  tress.  Is  it  freedom  to  be  locked 
up  in  a  cell  and  cut  off  from  all  my 
friends  ?" 

Lopez  gave  a  gasp.  lie  was  anxious  to 
please  Katie,  yet  thi.s  was  a  bad,  a  very  bad 
beginning. 

"Why,"  said  he,  "  where  can  you  go  ?" 

"You  will  not  even  let  me  go  about  the 
castle,"  said  Katie.  "  If  you  Ijarred  your 
gates,  and  let  me  move  about  inside,  even 
Jien  it  woiUd  be  imprisonment ;  but  you 
lock  me  in  this  cell,  and  then  you  come  to 
mock  mo." 

"  Great  Heaven !"  said  Lopez.  "  Oh,  sc- 
Borita !  won't  you  understand  ?  Let  me 
explain.  Tliis  castle  is  full  of  rough,  rude 
men.  It  would  not  bo  safe  for  you  to  move 
about.  They  are  not  trained  sen-ants ;  they 
are  l)rutal  and  fierce.  If  you  went  among 
them  you  would  be  exposed  to  insult," 

"  My  attendant  comes  and  goes,"  said 


Katie;  "she  is  not  insulted.    Why  may  I 
not  be  at  least  as  free  as  she  is  ?" 

"  Because,"  said  Lopez, "  you  arc  a  lady ; 
she  is  only  a  common  woman.  Things 
would  bo  insults  to  you  which  she  only 
laughs  at.  I  cannot  allow  you  to  expose 
yourself  to  the  brutal  ribaldry  of  the  ruf- 
fians below.  If  a  father  had  liis  daughter 
here,  he  Avould  lock  her  up,  as  I  do  you, 
out  of  atfeetion." 

At  this  Katie  turned  her  head  away,  with 
the  air  of  one  who  was  utterly  incredulous, 
and  felt  the  uselessncss  of  argument. 

Lopez  was  silent  for  a  i'cw  moments. 
Then  he  went  on. 

"Listen,"  said  he,  "and  see  if  you  have 
reason  to  be  angry  with  me.  Let  me  tell 
you  some  little  of  what  I  have  done.  Eiit 
for  me,  you  would  still  be  a  prisoner  in  the 
hands  of  a  remorseless  villain,  a  common 
brigand.  Listen  to  me,  I  entreat  you,  and 
then  tell  me  if  you  are  right  in  blaming 
me.  As  soon  as  I  was  freed  I  hurried  on 
to  Vittoria,  the  nearest  military  station.  I 
had  but  one  idea — the  rescue  of  you  from 
the  hands  of  those  villains.  At  Vittoria, 
after  incredible  effort,  I  succeeded  in  get- 
ting a  detachment  of  men  from  the  com- 
mandant. With  tliese  I  set  forth  on  the 
following  morning,  trying  to  lind  my  way 
to  you.  It  was  an  almost  impossii)le  task. 
The  country,  never  thickly  inhabited,  was 
literally  deserted.  I  could  lind  no  one  to 
ask,  and  could  find  no  trace  of  your  cajjtors 
anywhere.  I  did,  however,  what  I  could, 
and  sought  everywhere  most  painfully  and 
perseveringly.  At  length,  just  as  I  was  be- 
ginning to  despair,  chance  —  the  merest 
chance — threw  in  my  way  a  coujde  of  fugi- 
tives. These,  fortunately,  were  ai)le  to  give 
me  the  information  I  wanted.  One  of  them 
knew  all  about  this  castle,  and  knew  that 
you  were  here.  With  this  lu'lp  I  was  able 
to  find  my  way  here.  And  now  I  was  once 
more  favored  by  the  merest  chance.  Ihu 
I  tried  to  capture  the  place  in  a  regular 
fashion  I  should  liave  been  driven  back, 
for  this  castle  is  impregnable,  except  to  ar- 
tillery; but  my  guide  knew  of  a  subterra- 
nean passage-way,  and  guided  me  throuj. 
this  into  the  court-yard.  Once  here,  I  found 
all  the  men  in  a  careless  condition,  an 
made  a  rush  upon  them  before  they  could 
get  their  arms.  Over  and  over  again  I 
risked  my  life  in  the  fight  that  foUowe 
while  pressing  forward  in  my  eagerness  tii 
find  you  before  they  could  get  you  oil".  I 
found  you  at  last.    I  was  full  of  joy  auJ 


'  SUK 


HAT    Willi    ll,ASl'KI)    IIANK.S    AM>    UOW  1.1)    IIKAU.' 


A  CASTLE  IN  SPAIN. 


137 


triumph  nt  the  thoup;ht  of  rescuing  you 
from  a  loathsome  captivity.  Judge  of  my 
surprise  and  bitter  disappointment  when  I 
saw  you  so  indifferent,  when  you  met  me  so 
coolly;  and,  instead  of  showing  gratitude, 
seemed  rather  angry  at  me  than  otherwise." 

Lopez  paused  here  to  sec  the  eflect  of  his 
eloquent  speech. 

Katie  looked  up. 

''  It  was  not  captivity,  as  j'ou  call  it," 
said  she;  "nnd  if  it  was,  it  was  not  loath- 
some. That  word,  scnor,  is  far  more  appli- 
cal)le  to  my  present  condition." 

"  You  tlon't  know,"  said  Lopez.  "  You 
can't  understand.  You  must  have  been 
under  some  fatal  misaiiprehcnsion.  Is  it 
possible  that  you  were  ignorant  of  the 
character  of  yotir  cajitor — a  mere  Ijrigand 
— one  who  pretends  to  he  a  Carlist,  merely 
that  he  may  rob  passengers,  or  capture 
them  and  hold  them  to  ransom?  Have 
you  been  all  this  time  in  such  ignorance?" 

"  No,  sefior ;  I  knew  in  whose  hands  I 
had  fallen — he  is  a  man  of  honor!" 

"A  man  of  honor!"  cried  Lopez,  in 
amazement. 

"  Scfior,  you  cannot  know  yet  who  lie  is. 
I  must  tell  you.  He  is  tlie  King  of  Spain — 
His  Majesty  King  Cliarles!" 

"Don  Carlos!"  cried  Lopez. 

At  this  information  he  stood  transfixed 
with  amazement.  Nothing  was  more  prob- 
able than  that  Don  Carlos  had  been  in  the 
castle,  though  he  did  not  suppose  that  Don 
Carlos  would  rob  travellers  or  hold  them 
to  ransom.  And  then  there  came  upon  him 
the  bitter  thought  of  all  that  he  had  lost 
by  the  escape  of  this  distinguished  person- 
age. Had  he  captured  him,  lie  would 
have  been  certain  of  immortal  glory  —  of 
advancement,  of  high  command,  honor, 
wealth,  everything  which  a  grateful  gov- 
ernment could  bestow.  And  all  had  slip- 
ped out  of  his  hands  by  the  narrowest 
chance.  The  thought  of  that  lost  glory 
well-nigh  overcame  him. 

"I  didn't  see  him,"  he  groaned,  ns  he 
stood  clasping  his  hands  in  an  attitude 
of  despair,  "lie  must  have  left  before  I 
came." 

"He  left,''  said  Katie,  "while  you  were 
in  the  castle." 

"Ah!"  said  Lopez,  "how  do  you  know 
that  ?" 

"  Because,"  said  Katie, "  I  saw  him  when 
he  left." 

"  But  you  were  in  that  room.  How  could 
lie  leave  that  room  ?'' 


"I  saw  him  when  he  left."  said  Katie, 
"  that  is  all.  You  need  not  believe  me  un- 
less you  wish,  but  it  is  true." 

Lopez  had  to  believe  her. 

"And  wliat  is  more,"  said  Katie,  "j-ou 
will  not  remain  here  long,  lie  will  soou 
be  back." 

"  Pooh  !"  said  Lopez,  "  he  can  do  noth- 
ing. He  can't  get  in  here.  Tiiis  castle 
is  impregnable  to  anything  less  than  an 
army." 

"But  you  got  in." 

"  But  I've  guarded  that  passage  so  that 
others  cannot,"  said  he. 

"Do  you  think,"  said  she,  "that  there 
are  no  other  secret  passages  than  that  ?" 

Katie  had  drawn  a  bow  at  a  venture. 
She  knew  from  the  statements  of  Dolores 
that  there  were  secret  passages  all  about; 
but  whether  there  were  any  others  that  rau 
out  into  the  country  outside  site  did  not 
know.  Still,  she  thought  she  would  try 
the  effect  of  this  on  Lopez.  She  was  fully 
satisfied  with  the  result  of  her  experiment. 

Lopez  started  and  stared. 

"  Other  secret  passages !"'  he  said.  "  Do 
you  know  of  any  ?" 

"If  I  did  I  would  not  tell,"  said  Katie. 

Lopez  was  much  disturbed.  He  did  not 
know  but  that  there  really  were  other  se- 
cret passages.  The  escape  of  •'  His  Jlajes- 
ty"  seemed  to  point  to  this.  He  deter- 
mined to  institute  a  thorough  search. 

"  I'll  find  out  every  passage  in  the  castle 
before  evening,"  said  he. 

Katie  smiled.  She  did  not  believe  that 
he  would  find  one.  Lopez  felt  nettled  at 
her  smile. 

"You  don't  believe  I  shall  find  them," 
said  ho.  "If  I  don't  find  them  I  shall  con- 
clude that  they  are  not  there." 

"A  very  safe  conclusion!"  said  Katie. 

Lopez  felt  angry.  He  had  come  hojiing 
to  make  an  impression  on  Kiitie  by  telling 
her  of  his  love  and  devotion.  In  this  he 
had  been  miserably  disappointed.  He  had 
become  angry  and  excited.  He  was  no 
longer  in  a  fit  mood  to  appeal  to  her  feel- 
ings, and  lie  felt  it.  He  therefore  con- 
cluded that  it  would  be  best  to  retire  for 
the  present,  and  come  again  after  be  had 
jirown  calmer. 


138 


A  CASTLE  IN  SPAIN. 


CHAPTER  XLIV. 

HOW  LOPEZ  HAS   A.NOTHKU  COXVEUHATION  WITH  KA- 
TIK,  AXU  lEDLd  I'UZZLKD. 

It  was  not  much  more  than  an  hour  af- 
terward when  Lopez  paid  Katie  a  second 
visit.  By  tliat  time  he  had  overcome  all 
his  excitement,  and  liad  settled  upon  a 
plan  of  action  of  a  different  kind.  It  was 
of  no  use,  he  saw,  to  apiieal  to  Katie's  feel- 
ings, and  so  lie  thought  tliat  he  would  try 
the  efect  of  a  little  pressure  of  a  moral 
cliara.;ter. 

"  I  hope  you  will  pardon  me,"  said  he, 
"  for  troubling  you  again,  but  it  is  necessa- 
ry ft)r  us  to  understand  one  another,  and  I 
think  you  do  not  see  exactly  how  I  am  sit- 
uated." 

At  this  Katie  made  no  observation,  but 
drew  a  long  breath,  and  leaned  back  with 
the  air  of  a  martyr.  This  was  excessively 
aggravating  to  Lopez,  but  he  managed  to 
smother  his  irritation,  and  proceeded  : 

"Pardon  me,  senorita,  if  I  have  to  recall 
the  past.  I  saw  you,  as  you  remember, 
some  months  ago  for  the  first  time,  and 
found  you  not  unwilling  to  receive  my  at- 
tentions. From  the  lirst  moment  of  my 
aecjuaintance  with  you  I  loved  you,  and 
thought  that  I  had  reason  for  hope.  Lov- 
ers are  always  sanguine." 

"  I  can  assure  you,  scnor,"  said  Katie,  "  I 
do  not  see  how  you  could  liavc  found  any 
reason  to  hope  in  this  case." 

Lopez  felt  this  rebuff  very  keenly,  but 
kept  his  temper. 

''I  was  merely  speaking  of  my  own 
hopes,"  said  he,  mildly,  "  and  you  certain- 
ly were  far  more  amiable  than  you  now 
are." 

"  Pm  sure,  scnor,  I  should  be  sorry  to  be 
otherwise  tlian  amiable,  but  sleepless  nights 
and  solitary  confinement  must  necessarily 
affect  one's  temper.  I  can  only  say  I  do 
not  wish  to  be  rude." 

"  Pardon  mc  —  rude  ?  That  is  impossi- 
ble,'' said  Lopez,  grasi)ing  eagerly  at  this 
as  at  some  small  concession.  "  I  only  want 
you  to  give  me  now  a  fair  hearing.  Let 
nic  say,  once  for  all,  that  I  loved  you  then, 
and  have  loved  you  ever  since,  most  devot- 
edly." 

"I  suppose  I  have  to  listen,"  .said  Katie, 
"as  I  am  your  prisoner;  but  I  will  only 
hint  that  before  .speaking  of  love  it  might 
be  as  well  to  set  mc  free." 

Lopez  drew  a  long  breath.  It  was  hard 
indeed  for  him  to  keep  down  his  anger. 


"  Very  well,''  said  he,  taking  no  notice 
of  her  words.  "  In  the  mid.st  of  my  hopes 
tiiere  came  this  English  Ashby,  and  at  once 
I  felt  that  I  was  pushed  into  the  back- 
ground. I  bore  my  disappointment  as  well 
as  I  could,  and  in  addition  to  this  I  put 
up  with  things  of  which  you  never  knew. 
That  man  liad  a  most  insolent  manner, 
lie  was  wealthy.  He  was  purse-proud,  and 
excited  universal  hate  by  his  overbearing 
ways.  There  was  always  the  clink  of  gold 
in  his  voice,  and  even  in  his  step.  I  have 
even  received  insults  from  him." 

"  Why  did  you  put  up  with  insults  ?'' 
asked  Katie.  "  I  thought  that  no  Hj)an- 
iard  ever  allowed  himself  to  be  insulted." 

"  For  your  sake,"  said  Lopez,  in  a  tender 
voice.     "  For  your  sake  I  endured  all." 

"  For  my  sake !  I  am  at  a  loss  to  sec  why 
you  should  allow  any  one  to  insult  you  for 
my  sake." 

"Ah!  there  were  many  reasons  why  I 
had  to  be  very,  very  patient  for  your  sake. 
In  the  first  place,  I  saw  that  you  preferred 
him  to  me,  and  I  feared  that  if  I  quarrelled 
with  liim  you  would  hate  me;  and  that 
would  have  been  Avorse  than  death.  Again, 
if  I  had  quarrelled  with  him,  you  would 
have  been  known  as  the  cause,  and  would 
have  been  talked  about;  and  in  Spain  it  is 
a  great  dishonor  to  a  young  lady  to  be 
talked  about.  But  do  not  suppose  that  I 
would  have  allowed  him  to  insult  me  witii 
impunity.  No ;  a  day  was  to  come  for  a 
settlement,  and  he  knew  it.  When  we  left 
Madrid  we  liad  agreed  upon  a  meeting." 

"I  didn't  know  that,"  said  Katie,  care- 
lessly. 

Lopez  was  struck  with  this  careless  tone 
with  regard  to  a  matter  which  aU'eeted  the 
life  of  Ashby;  for  it  was  Inirdly  possible 
that  Ashby  could  have  come  unharmed  out 
of  a  mortal  combat,  but  he  took  no  notice 
of  it. 

"  Such,"  said  he,  "  was  the  stato  of  afl'uirs 
up  to  the  hour  of  our  iourney.  Then  the 
train  was  stopped,  and  I  moved  heaven 
and  earth  to  follow  you  and  effect  your 
rescue,  with  what  success  you  perceive ; 
for  here  I  am,  and  this  castle  is  in  my 
hands." 

"  I  must  protest,"  said  Katie,  with  muoli 
dignity,  "against  your  using  such  a  word 
as  'rescue'  with  reference  to  me.  I  consid- 
er that  I  have  been  seized  and  thrown  into 
prison.  I  do  not  wish  to  be  unkind;  I 
merely  say  this  in  justice  to  myself,  and  also 
to  "  Ilis  Majesty  "  the  King,  of  whom  I  was 


A  CASTLE  IN  SPAIN. 


13'J 


merely  the  honored  guest,  with  plenty  of 
IViends  around  me." 

At  tliiii  Lopez  was  struek  dumb  with 
vexation.  Never  could  Kiitie  be  brought 
to  look  upon  his  really  gallant  and  daring 
exploit  in  its  proper  light.  And  yet  he 
could  not  disprove  her  assertion,  lie  did 
not  know  what  liad  been  her  position  here, 
'f  the  King  had  really  been  hero,  it  was, 
al'fer  all,  (|uite  possible  that  she  had  been, 
as  fhc  said,  an  honored  guest. 

"  '  His  Majesty,' "  said  Katie,  in  a  calm 
and  placid  tone,  "was  most  attentive,  lie 
did  his  utmost  to  alleviate  our  dulness, 
lie  paid  U3  constant  visits,  and  assured  us 
over  and  over  again  that  our  stay  was  to 
be  but  short.  Never  hove  I  met  with  one 
wlu)  was  more  kind,  more  considerate,  and 
at  tlio  same  time  more  lively.  Always 
laughing  and  cheerful,  he  seemed  more 
like  some  well-known  friend  than  the  great 
king  of  a  great  country,  With  us  he  for- 
got all  the  cares  of  his  situation,  lie  was 
gallant,  chivalrous  —  more,  he  was  even 
pleased  to  bo  merry,  and  to  indulge  in 
many  little  pleasantries.  And  now  you 
perceive,  Seuor  Captain,  what  the  real 
change  in  my  situation  has  been.  It  has 
Iteen  from  sunshine  to  gloom;  from  laugh- 
ter to  tears;  from  bright  and  i)leasant  so- 
ciety to  loneliness  and  despair." 

This  was  putting  it  strong — very  strong 
indeed,  and  Lopez  felt  it  in  his  very  soul, 
lie  at  once  gave  up  any  further  ctlbrts  in 
this  direction.  He  had  nothing  more  to 
otl'er  in  answer  to  such  a  statement  as  this. 
He  felt  it  to  be  a  fact  that  Katie  had  been 
happy  before  he  came,  and  that  she  w'as 
now  miserable.  Whatever  the  cause  was, 
there  was  the  unanswerable  fact. 

He  now  adopted  a  severe  tone, 

"  You  arc  aware,  senora,"  said  he,  "  that 
when  I  captured  this  castle  there  were  sev- 
eral prisoners." 

Katie  nodded, 

"I  suppose  so,"  said  she.  "I  don't 
know," 

"  Very  well.  Among  them  was  your 
dear  friend — " 

"My  dear  friend?  "Who?  Not  'His 
Majesty  V  " 

Lopez  laughed  bitterly,  "  IIow  trans- 
parent that  little  trick  is,"  he  said  to  him- 
self. 

"  Ry  'your  dear  friend,'"  said  he,  "I 
mean,  of  course,  Jlr.  Ashby." 

"  Mr.  Ashby  !     Oh  !"  said  Katie. 

To  tell  the  truth,  by  this  time  Katie  liad 


almost  forgotten  his  existence.  She  seem- 
ed to  herself  to  have  lived  years  since  last 
she  spoke  to  ]\Ir,  Ashby.  So  she  said,  in 
an  indillerent  tone, 

"  Mr,  Ashby  ?     Oh  !" 

Lopez,  of  course,  thought  this  a  jiart  o;' 
her  assumed  indiilerence,  and  smileil  at  his 
own  penetration.  He  could  sec  through 
her  little  arts;  and  he  knew  something 
whieii  would  soon  force  her  to  tear  away 
her  mask. 

"  He  is  arrested  as  a  spy,"  said  Lopez, 
abruptly. 

"  A  spy !"  said  Katie ;  "  3Ir.  Ashby  a  spy ! 
"Wiiy,  he  hasn't  been  a  spy,  I  don't  under- 
stand." 

"Whether  he  is  one  or  not,"  said  Lopez, 
harshly,  "  will  soon  appear,  as  he  will  be 
tried  by  court-martial  to-day.  In  times 
like  these  no  mercy  is  shown  to  spies. 
The  country  is  swarming  with  them.  They 
have  a  short  trial,  a  quick  sentence,  and  a 
summary  execution," 

"  Still,"  said  Katie,  "  I  don't  see  how  you 
can  make  out  that  3Ir.  Ashby  is  a  spy," 

Katie  showed  no  horror  at  all,  no  excite- 
ment whatever,  and  Lopez  was  jiroportion- 
ally  amazed.    lie  had  not  expected  this. 

"I  can't  tell,"  .said  he;  "the  court-mar- 
tial will  deal  with  him.  I  dare  say  he  is  a 
spy,  and  I  fully  expect  that  he  will  be 
shot." 

"  Well,"  said  Katie,  "  I  dare  say  he  must 
be.  You  seem  to  hate  him  so,  and  you  say 
he  has  insulted  you,  so  you  will  take  this 
way  of  I)eing  revenged.  All  the  same,  I 
shouldn't  like  to  deal  that  way  with  my 
enemy.  Poor  !Mr.  Ashby !  It's  very,  very 
sad!  Oh,  what  would  "Ilis  JIajesty" 
think  if  he  were  to  hear  this  !'' 

Once  more  Lopez  was  struck  dumb,  lie 
had  counted  with  certainty  upon  jirodu- 
cing  a  strong  cfl'cct  on  Katie.  J'.y  holding 
Ashl)y's  doom  over  her  head,  he  hoped  to 
influence  her.  But  this  tremendous  blow 
had  fallen,  and  had  evidently  not  been  felt. 
For  Ashby  and  for  his  fate  Katie  had 
nothing  but  the  most  commonplace  expres- 
sions of  pity — no  horror,  no  grief,  no  de- 
spair, nothing  of  the  sort. 

In  fact,  so  completely  overcome  was  Lo- 
pez by  this  unexpected  result  of  his  inter- 
view with  Katie  that  he  left  abruptly. 

He  was  full  of  wonder.  "  Is  it  possible," 
he  thought,  "  that  this  is  her  English  stub- 
bornness ?  Can  she  Jiavc  so  much  of  that 
infernal  English  stolidity  as  to  be  able  to 
conceal  so  perfectly  her  deepest  feelings? 


no 


A  CASTLE  IN  SPAIN. 


Impossible !     Does  she  love  Asliby  ?    She 
cannot  1     Docs  slio  love  anybody  {     No  ! 
Can  hIic  love  i    I  don't  believe  it !     What  I 
a  girl!  wliat  a  girl!     Ami  she  seems  so 
gentle,  so  timid,  but  in  reality  she's  as  bold 
as  a  lion,  and  as  iierce  as  a  she-tiger.     By  j 
heavens!   she  sliall  be  mine,  if  she's  the, 
Kvil  One  himsell'. 

"And  that  poor  fool  Asliby  tiiinks  she 
loves  him!  liah  !  she  cares  no  more  for 
liim  than  she  does  for  me.  The  idiot ! 
This  is  a  sweeter  vengeance  for  mc  than 
anything  else.  And,  by  heavens!  he  shall : 
still  be  present  at  our  nuirriage.  For  mar- 
ried we  shall  be  in  spite  of  fate,  even  if  I 
liave  to  gain  her  consent  with  the  muzzle 
of  my  pistol  against  her  brt)w." 


CilAPTEll   XLV. 

IN  wnien  iiauuv  asks  a  FAVon,  and  LorKZ  de- 
gins  TO  SliK  A   LITTLK   LIGHT. 

"SViiii-E  Lopez  was  thus  chafing  and  fum- 
ing he  was  accosted  by  Harry. 

Harry's  position  was  peculiar,  and  not 
particularly  enviable.  He  had  been  in- 
formed that  he  was  a  free  man,  and  nntster 
of  his  own  actions.  Lopez  had  nothing 
against  liim,  and  by  this  time  had  forgot- 
ten even  his  existence.  After  his  deliv- 
erance, Harry  had  gone  mooning  about, 
stared  at  l)y  all  in  the  castle,  until  at  length 
he  had  fallen  asleep. 

In  the  morning  he  made  a  great  discov- 
ery. This  was  the  fact  that  his  freedom  to 
go  was  useless,  and  that  he  was  still  a  pris- 
oner here — a  prisoner,  though  a  voluntary 
one — a  prisoner  bound  to  this  place  by 
bonds  stronger  than  iron  manacles  or  walls 
of  stone.  These  bonds  were  the  feelings 
which  had  started  up  within  him  before  he 
was  aware,  and  now  held  him  fast  tied  to 
Katie.  He  awoke  to  feel  that  his  present 
freedom  was  far  less  sweet  than  his  late 
captivity — that  delightful  captivity  with  its 
stolen  interviews,  and  the  sweet  thoughts 
of  her  who  was  so  near. 

And  where  was  she  now  ?  He  had  seen 
nothing  of  licr.  Had  she  tied  ?  But  how, 
and  why,  and  where  would  she  have  fled 
from  him  ?  Had  she  been  captured  ?  But 
why  ?  Who  would  capture  her  ?  Yet 
wiicrc  was  she  ?  These  were  the  questions 
that  came  thronging  upon  him  to  vex  his 
80ul  and  destroy  his  peace;  so  that  it  was 
for  the  purpose  of  finding  out  something 


definite  about  her  that  ho  had  sought  out 
Lopez. 

Ho  looked  pale  and  agitated.  Lojkz, 
preoccupied  though  he  was,  coulil  not  hel|) 
noticing  this,  and  he  thought  that  Hurry 
must  bo  8uJ'';ring  from  anxiety  about  his 
friend  Ashby.  This,  however,  he  immedi- 
ately found,  fron\  Harry's  firsl  «iuestion,  to 
be  a  great  mistake. 

Harry  was  far  from  sus^iecting  the  state 
of  mind  in  which  Lopez  was — how  full  of 
love  and  jealousy  and  suspicion  ;  how  at 
that  very  moment  he  was  eager  to  pene- 
trate into  the  secret  of  Katie's  heart.  In 
fact,  Harry  suspected  nothing  at  all,  and 
so  was  not  at  all  on  his  guard,  but  blurted 
out  all  his  feelings. 

"Captain  Lopez,"'  he  began,  "did  you 
see  a  young  English  lady  here  last  night — 
a  Miss  "NVestlotorn  (■'' 

"  Yes,"  said  Lopez. 

"Did  :ou?  Is  she—  Did—  Is— is— 
is  she  in — in  the  castle?"  stannnered  Har- 
ry, in  distress  and  deep  agitation. 

There  was  not  one  expression  on  Harry's 
face  nor  one  tremor  in  his  faltiTing  voice 
that  was  not  instantly  marked  by  Lopez. 
There  seemed  in  this  to  be  some  clue  to 
the  mystery. 

"  She  is  in  the  castle,"  said  Lopez. 

"Where  —  when — where?"  said  Harry, 
excitedly.  "  I've  been  looking  for  her  ev- 
erywhere. I've  gone  over  the  whole  cas- 
tle. I  hope  she  isn't  hurt !  Is  she  safe  i 
Did  she  fall  into  the  hands  of  the  sol- 
diers ?" 

"  She  fell  into  my  hands,"  said  Lope?:, 
bluntly. 

Harry  fastened  on  him  a  look  of  devour- 
ing finxiet}-. 

*•  Did  you  —  Is  she  —  What  did  — 
When — that  is — is  she  safe  ?" 

"  She  is  safe,"  said  Lopez. 

Harry  drew  a  long  breath. 

"  You  see,"  said  he,  with  a  little  more 
composure,  "  I  have  felt  anxious  about  her. 
I  have  been  worried,  you  know,  and  I  have 
felt  anxious  about  her — in  fact,  you  know, 
I  have  felt  anxious  about  her." 

"  She  is  kei)t  out  of  the  way  just  now,"' 
said  Lopez,  on  account  of  the  riot  in  tlio 
castle  and  the  dread  we  have  of  an  attack. 
I  don't  care  about  letting  the  men  know 
she  is  here." 

Harry  drew  a  breath  of  relief. 

"  I'm  glad,"  he  said. 

Another  sigh  followed.  Then  he  looked 
wistfully  at  Lopez. 


A  CASTLE  IN  SPAIN. 


141 


''  Would  it  bo  too  much  to  iisk — if  I  were 
to  ask — if  you  would  present  me — to — to 
pay  my  respects  to  her,  us  an  old  friend?'" 

'•  Impossible,  seuor,"  said  Lopez.  "  Siic 
is  with  the  women ;  you  couldn't  visit  her. 
You  will  be  able  to  ])ay  your  respects  to 
her  after  she  reaches  Vittorla,  or  some  oth- 
er i)laco  of  safety.  Until  then  it  is  impos- 
sil)le.  As  for  yourself,  I  hope  you  are  com- 
fortable ;  and  whenever  you  wish  to'go  you 
may  go." 

Harry  sighed,  and  stood  as  one  in  a 
dream.  i 

"I  think,"  said  he,  "I  shall  not  go— just ' 
yet.     Perlia[)s  I  may  wait  till  the  rest  are 

(ri)iii<T  "  1 

"  Good  -  morning,  sefior,"  said  Lopez, 
walking  away. 

Harry  stood  rooted  to  tho  spot. 

As  Lojjez  walked  off,  he  felt  tliat  lie  had 
got  hold  of  sometlung  whlcli  might  be 
used  against  Katie.  "Another" — he  said 
to  himself — "another  poor  fool  who  has 
become  infatuated,  like  myself,  but  now 
the  power  is  mine,  and  I  will  use  it.  Yes; 
perhaps  she  herself  may  feel  toward  tills 
man  sometiiing  of  what  I  feel  toward  her. 
If  so — if  so— -ril  drag  the  secret  out  of  her. 
But,  by  heaven  !  that  poor  fool  is  standing 
there  yet.  There's  a  mad  lover  for  you ! 
Ha,  ha !  Is  he  any  worse  than  I  have  been  i 
Let  me  see.  Suppose  I  had  been  taken 
prisoner  as  he  has  been,  shut  up  with  her 
in  a  castle,  then  freed ;  would  I  not  long  to 
see  her  ?  Would  not  liberty  bo  useless 
witliout  her?  That  man  can't  leave  his 
inison-house.  She  is  here — she  is  here; 
that's  enough.  Yet  what  is  she  to  him? 
Is  not  tills  man  Ashlty's  friend  ?  I  saw 
tliom  meet  at  the  liotel  in  Burgos  as  I 
watched  Ashby.  Thoy  greeted  like  broth- 
ers, and  went  off  togetlier  for  the  night. 
And  /ic — why,  he  has  fallen  in  love  with 
his  friend's  betrothed!  Ins  friend's  —  ha, 
ha  I — betrothed — ha,  ha! — and,  by  Jove! 
why  not  ?  That  girl  could  make  a  saint 
I'.iU  Ln  love  with  her.  Tiiat  girl — why  siie 
mightn't  to  be  allowed  to  go  at  large,  and 
therefore  I've  shut  her  up;  ami  siiut  up 
she  shall  be  for  the  remainder  of  her  days, 
like  a  good  Spanish  wife.  But  I  must  have 
a  few  more  words  with  my  moon -struck 
lover.'' 

With  these  thoughts  Lopez  sauntered 
hack  to  where  Harry  was  standing,  fixed 
upon  the  spot  where  he  had  left  him. 

"Pardon,  sefior,"  said  be,  "but  it  seems 
to  me  that  you  take  a  deep  interest  in  the 


scfiorita.  May  i  ask  if  she  is  a  relative? 
In  that  case  some  allowance  might  bo 
made:  she  miglit  not  oltject  to  see  a  rela- 
tive." 

"  Oh,"  said  Harry,  eagerly,  liis  wliole  faco 
gleaming  with  joy,  "slie  will  never  oi)jeet 
to  .see  me.  Ask  her;  ask  her.  Siie  will 
be  delighted  to  see  7««." 

At  this  there  were  two  distinct  feeling.s 
struggling  for  the  mastery  in  tlie  breast  of 
the  Spaniard;  one  was  exultation  at  the 
ready  way  in  which  H'irry  had  fallen  into 
Ills  trap;  the  otlier  was  on;;  of  jealousy  at 
Harry's  easy  confidence.  He  had  .lever  felt 
such  confidence  at  finding  a  welcome  re- 
ception from  Ivatie.  However,  he  was  now 
on  the  right  track,  and  he  determined  to 
follow  it  up. 

"Arc  you  a  relative  of  the  lady's?"  ho 
asked. 

"Well,  no — not  exactly  a  relative,"  said 
Harry. 

"Ah!  perhaps  a  connection  by  mar- 
riage ?" 

"Well,  no  —  not  exactly  a  connection, 
either—" 

"Well,  you  see,  sefior,  in  Spain  etiquette 
is  very  strict,  and  our  ladies  are  under 
more  restraint  than  witli  yon.  I  must  treat 
this  lady  in  accordance  with  my  own  feel- 
ings, and  a  Spanisli  gentleman  w(nild  feel 
as  if  he  were  slighting  a  lady  if  he  were 
to  act  out  of  accordance  with  Spanish  eti- 
quette." 

"Oh,"  .said  Harry,  earnestly,  "she  is  an 
English  lady." 

"But  I  am  a  Spanish  gentleman." 

Harry  drew  a  long  l)reath.  He  was  in 
despair.  Oh,  how  he  longed  to  be  Katie's 
third  cousin  for  a  few  minutes. 

"I  am  very  sorry,"  said  Lojicz,  "but  you 
see  I  have  to  be  guided  I)y  my  own  sense 
of  jiropriet J'.  I  sujijiose  you  are  a  n'ry  old 
friend,  seuor;  yet  I  liavc  been  (luite  inti- 
mate with  tho  senorita  my.self,  and  never 
heard  her  mention  your  name." 

"Well,"  said  Harry,  "I  have  not  known 
her  verij  long." 

"She  used  to  speak  freely  of  all  her  Eng- 
lish friends,"  continued  Lopez ;  "  for  you 
sec  she  liad  not  many,  having  lived  so  long 
in  Spain ;  and  so  I  was  surprised  to  hear 
you  speak  of  her  as  so  intimate  a  friend.'' 

"Well,"  said  Harry,  "my  acquaintance 
with  her  is  not  of  very  long  standing." 

"  You  were  not  acquainted  M  ith  lior  at 
Madrid  ?"  said  Lopez. 

"  No,"  said  Harry,  dreamily. 


142 


A  CASTLE  IN  SPAIN'. 


"Nor  nt  Cniliz ?"  continued  Lopez, 

"  No— not  Cadiz." 

"Tlien,  sc'fior,  you  could  oidy  liavo  nimlc 
her  ficiniaiiitanco  on  tliis  journey,"  .said  Lo- 
pez, witli  a  smile,  which  was  not  nuTcly 
put  on  fur  a  jjurposc.  lie  felt  like  sniilini,', 
80  successful  had  he  hccn  in  getting  at  the 
trutli. 

Harry  looked  confused. 

"  Well,  you  see,  scfior,  in  ca2)tivity,  or  on 
a  journey,  people  arc  very  much  thrown 
together,  and  liny  uiakc  friendships  very 
fust," 

"Oh  yes,"  snid  Lopez,  "I  understand. 
In  short,  it  anionnts  to  thi.-^,  that  one  day 
of  such  intercourse,  so  free,  so  unconven« 
tional,  is  equal  to  a  whole  year,  or  even  a 
whole  lifef uue,  of  tho  formal  intercourse  of 
onliniiry  social  life." 

"Well,  scfior,  I  nm  sorrj'.  I  came  back 
thinking  that  yon  might  bo  some  near  rel- 
ative or  conneelion.  My  own  ideas  and 
hal)its  do  not  allow  mo  to  permit  what  you 
ask  ;  but  tJie  sefiorita  will  bo  her  own  mis- 
tress in  time,  and  then  of  course  she  c.in 
see  whom  she  chooses." 

And  now,  for  a  second  time,  Lopez 
■walked  away,  thinking  that  he  understood 
nil.  Another  victim,  he  thought.  And  in 
two  or  three  days:  in  that  time  she  has 
turned  his  head.  And  docs  she  return  his 
passion?  Is  she  as  indifferent  to  him  as 
she  is  to  me,  and  to  Ashby  ?  I  will  soon 
find  out. 


CIIAPTER  XLVL 

IN    WniCH    I.OPKZ    MAICK3    A    FIU:S!I    A.=SACLT,  AND 
KATIE   miKAKS   DOWN  UTTEm.Y, 

Once  more  Lopez  called  upon  Katie:  it 
was  about  two  liours  after  his  last  call. 
This  was  his  third  call  in  one  day.  She 
looked  surprised  and  also  vexed. 

"A  little  matter  has  occurred  to  me," 
said  he,  "which  I  thought  I  would  men- 
tion to  you,  as  it  ought  to  bo  of  .".omc  con- 
cern to  you." 

"Ah  I"  said  Katie,  languidly,  as  Lopez 
paused.  She  seemed  to  be  more  indilfer- 
cnt,  if  possible,  than  ever;  more  self-ali- 
sorbed,  and  morci  liored  with  liis  society. 

"Ifs  about  a  certain  Mr.  Rivera,"  contiu- 
ticd  Lopez. 

It  was  not  without  very  careful  premed- 
itation that  Lopez  had  entered  uj)on  this 
interview,  and  the  result  of  his  thoughts 
was  that  he  had  decided  upon  introducing 


this  matter  in  the  most  abrupt  manner  po^ 
Hil)le.  lint  in  all  his  sjHXulations  as  to  the 
possible  cll'ect  of  this  new  scheme,  he  hail 
n(!ver  imagined  anything  like  the  reality  u-, 
li(!  now  witnessed  it. 

At  tho  nu'Ution  of  that  name  Katie's 
manner  changed  instantly  and  utterly. 
From  languor,  from  indillerence,  and  from 
boredom,  she  started  up  erect  with  wild 
excitement  and  terrilied  interest.  In  her 
face  there  was  a  perfect  anguish  of  fear 
and  apprehension.  Her  eyes  stared  upon 
him  in  utter  horror;  she  gasped  for  breath, 
and  it  was  not  imtil  some  time  that  she 
couhl  articulate  a  few  words. 


".Mr. — Mr.— Hivers!"  she  gasped. 


•Dill 


j-ou  say — Mr.  Rivers  V 

However  amazed  Lopez  was  at  Katie's 
intensity  of  excitement,  he  mach;  no  retVr- 
enco  to  it,  and  nnswerctl  in  a  (puet  aiul 
matter-of-fact  tone. 

"He  said  he  was  acquainted  with  you, 
and  wanted  to  see  you." 

"To  fier  me?  Mr.  Rivers?''  said  Katie, 
still  agitated.  "And  can  —  can  he  —  will 
he — will  you  let  him?     Did  you  consent;" 

"  Well,"  said  Lopez,  "you  see,  there  were 
reasons — " 

"Reasons!''  repeated  Katie,  all  trenui- 
lously,  and  in  dire  .suspense  —  "reasons'." 
she  waited  his  rcfjly  breathlessly.  The 
thought  of  Harry  being  in  the  power  of 
Lopez,  of  the  liate  and  malignant  ven- 
geance which  Lopez  might  pour  forth  upon 
his  devoted  heail,  had  all  occurred  to  her 
at  once  at  the  mention  of  hir,  name,  ami 
still  ovcrwlielmecl  her. 

"  In  Spain,  you  know,"'  .said  Loi)ez. 
"  there  is  not  such  freedom  of  social  inter- 
course between  young  unmairied  ladies 
and  gentlemen  as  in  England,  and  I  diil 
not  think  that  you  wouhl  feel  liku  viola- 
ting our  Spanish  etiquette." 

"  Spanisli  etiquette  !''  cried  Katie,  with 
nervous  eagerness;  "oh,  that  is  nothing— 
Te'.i  him  he  may  come — he  may  come;  tell 
him  he  may  come— I  shall  be  most  happy 
to  see  him — I  shall  bo  so  glad  to  see  iiiin! 
I  shall— (>h,  I  shall — be — I  shall  be— oh  yes, 
glad  to  see  him  !" 

Katie  was  struggling  with  intense  feel- 
ing. Her  feelings  carried  her  away  com- 
pletely. Lopez  saw  this  plainly,  and  felt. 
as  he  had  felt  in  Ashby's  ca.se,  partly  tri- 
umphant exultation,  partly  the  bitterest 
jealousy.  But  he  had  a  careful  guard  over 
every  exhibition  of  his  own  feelings.  Ami 
yet,  in  the  midst  of  his  exultation,  his  jenl 


A  CASTLE  IN  SPAIN. 


143 


(lUHy,  and  liis  efforts  at  self-control,  he  ninr- 1 
veiled  Krt-'iitly  at  tlie  intensity  of  feeling  dis- ; 
played  by  this  girl  whom  lie  had  believed 
to  be  so  iniinovable.     And  for  wiioin  ' — for  ■ 
ail  aci|uaintaneu  of  three  days'  standing. 

"Oil,  i>ut  you  see,"  saitl  he,  "  there  is 
sonietliin;^  rl.se  to  prevent,  unfortunately."' 

'•Soinetliing  else!"'  repeated  Katie,  in  a 
low,  treniblinj^  voice:  "and  unfortuiuUehj ! 
did  you  say  uii/ortmidtily?"' 

"1  said  itufortuiKitili/" »im\  liopez.  "You 
see — I  fori,'ot  to  nicntion  it  before,  as  I  did 
not  know  that  you  were  aetiuainted  with 
liin\— but  this  Rivers  haa  been  arrested  as 
a  spy." 

Tills  WHS,  of  course,  untrue ;  hut  Lopez 
was  merely  tryinic  an  experiment  on  Katie. 

Th(!  e.xperiment  was  fearfidly  successful. 

In  an  instant  all  that  Lopez  iuid  said  at 
tlii'ir  last  interview  about  the  fate  of  spies 
rusjicd  to  her  mind.  Ashby's  fate  she  had 
n';,'arded  with  mild  pity,  but  the  fate  of 
Jiivers  seemed  to  crush  her  down  into  the 
dust. 

Siie  clutched  the  arm  of  Lopez  convul- 
sively with  both  her  hands;  she  raised  up 
iier  face,  white  with  horror;  she  gasped 
for  breath. 

"  Oh,  senor!  oh,  senor!"  she  eriei1,"what 
is  it  that  you  mean?  A  spy!  Harry  a 
spy,  and  arrested  !  Oh,  you  cannot  mean 
it!  Say  that  you  do  not  mean  it !  Oh,  say 
it — say  it !" 

She  could  say  no  more.  Her  grasp  loos- 
<'ned.  She  fell  back,  aiul,  burying  her  face 
in  her  hands,  burst  into  a  passion  of  tears. 
Sobs  convulsed  that  slender  frame.  Lopez 
sat  with  a  Ijitter  smile  regarding  her. 

"  You  seem  to  value  tiie  life  of  this  Riv- 
ers," saii.l  he  at  lengti;,  aft<'r  a  long  silence. 

Katie  lifted  her  face,  and  regarded  him 
with  c}-es  all  red  and  swollen. 

•'His  life!"  she  exclaimed,  with  a,  slmd- 
(ler— "his  life  !  Ah,  that  is  it !  And  I  see 
ill  your  face  that  there  is — no — hope.  Oh, 
ilany !  oh,  Harry,  Harry  I" 

Her  voice  died  away  in  a  low  shudder. 
Lo[)ez  himself  was  moved.  He  had  not 
lieen  in  the  least  prepared  for  such  an  utter 
lireak-down  as  this.  Ah  !  now  he  saw  that 
ICatie  could  love,  and  liow  she  could  love ! 
At  the  force  of  that  love  all  el.se  pas.scd  away 
—pride,  shame,  hate,  all;  everything  was 
forgotten  except  that  name,  upon  which 
her  voice  dwelt  with  such  longing. 

"Yes,"  he  said,  "  he  is  a  spy.     He  is  now- 
being  tried,  or  rather,  he  has  been  tried — 
ior  I  may  as  well  tell  it — and  has  been  con- 
10 


denujed.  I  need  say  no  more  about  it ;  I 
iiave  already  said  enough.  You  know  tiio 
fate  of  a  condemned  spy.  Uefuru  another 
hour  all  will  be  over." 

At  tirsl  Katie  seemed  about  to  faint,  l)Ut 
the  last  sentence  roused  her.  She  started 
up,  and  again  sii/ed  his  arm  with  lnr  con- 
vulsive grasp.  Willi  white,  trenudous  lips 
she  said,  in  a  low  voice  which  had  sunk  to 
a  whisper, 

"An  hour!  an  hour!  Did  you  say — an- 
other hour  r 

LopLZ  bowed  his  head  in  silence. 

"  Ihit  you — you—i/iiii"  said  Katie,  fierce- 
ly— "you  do  not  believe  him  guilty  {'" 

"I  have  nothing  to  do  with  it,"  said  Lo- 
pez, coldly. 

"Nothing  to  do?  Are  you  not  com- 
mander here  f 

"  Yes." 

"  Can  you  do  nothing  ?"'  she  asked  again. 

"  No.  Tiie  trial  is  over.  His  fate  lias 
alreaily  been  decided;  in  another  hour  all 
will  l)e  over." 

The  repetition  of  these  words  roused  Ka- 
tie to  a  fresh  outburst  ol' despairing  grief. 

"  Oh  !"  said  she ;  "  in  so  short  a  time  !  so 
short !" 

"  It  was  because  he  was  so  near  hia 
doom,"  continued  Lopez,  "  that  the  con- 
tlemned  prisoner  recpiested  to  see  you,  and 
I  thought  I  would  mention  it.  Had  it  not 
been  for  this  re(iuest  he  would  have  been 
shot  without  your  knowing  it." 

Katfe  wrung  her  hands,  in  a  lilind  pas- 
sion of  d  'sp;iir. 

"Oh  1"  slie  burst  fortii,  "  something  must 
be  done  !  He  shall  not  die !  He  must  not! 
Oh,  heavens!  how  can  I  live,  and  think  of 
it?  Harry!  Harry!  was  there  no  one  to 
speak  for  you?  A  .ipy !  Ifs  fal.se!  He 
was  a  simple  traveller.  Oh,  Captain  Lopez, 
tliere  must  be  some  way  of  saving  him,  or 
at  least  of  deferring  his  doom.  Can  it  not 
be  put  off — for  one  day  ?" 

"That  would  be  of  no  avail,"  said  Lopez. 

"  One  day  I"  pleaded  Katie,  in  eager 
tones. 

"It's  useless,"  said  Lopez;  "it's  impos.si- 
ble.  The  sentence  of  the  court  cannot  be 
revoked." 

"  Rut  time  flies !  Oh,  Captain  Lopez,  can 
j'ou  not  let  him  go  ?" 

"  Oh  yes,"  said  Lopez,  "  I  can  do  that 
easily  enough.  I  could  let  him  out,  so  that 
he  could  escape." 

At  this  Katie  fell  on  her  knees,  and 
clasped  the  hands  of  Lopez. 


144 


A  CASTLE  IN  SPAIN. 


"  Oil,  Captain  Lopez,  I  kneel  to  yoii !  I 
pray  to  you  !  On  my  knees  I  pray  lor  his 
life  !  Let  liini  lly !  Oil,  let  him  fly  !  Oil,  I 
pray — I  pray  on  iiiy  knees  !" 

Lopez  drew  a  long  breath.  This  scene 
was  terrible  to  him  in  many  ways;  l)Ut, 
above  all,  it  was  terrible  to  see  what  love 
was  tlius  lavished  on  this  comparative 
stranger,  when  he  would  risk  his  life,  and 
had  risked  his  life,  for  a  single  smile. 

"Think,"  said  he,  "what  it  is  that  you 
ask.  The  moment  I  let  him  go,  that  mo- 
ment I  myself  am  a  crimii..;',  1  myself  am 
condemned.  I  must  fly — I  must  become  u 
ruined  man  !  Ruined  i  Worse :  dishonor- 
ed, disgraced  in  my  native  land;  1  who 
have  luui  high  ambitions,  and  have  won 
no  mean  distinctions.  And  yet  do  you  ask 
this  of  jnc  r' 

Katie  bowed  her  head  down ;  she  kissed 
his  hands,  and  in  trenuilou>^  tones  said, 

"  Oh,  I  must— I  must !     I  do  1" 

Lopez  was  trembling  from  head  to  foot. 
He  himself  could  now  scarcely  speak  from 
agitation. 

"And  may  I,"  he  said,  in  a  low  voice — 
"m.y  I — ask — nothing  from  you — when  I 
give  up  —  honor,  life,  hope,  idl  —  for  your 
sake  ?" 

riicre  A\as  a  suggestivcncss  in  this  (pies- 
tion  which  flashed  at  once  in  all  its  fullest 
meaning  into  Katie's  mind.  She  droj)pc'd 
his  hands;  she  sank  upim  the  floor;  she 
bowed  her  head  trem!  lingly  and  dcspair- 
ing'y.  Lopez  lo;>kpd  at  her  with  an  agita- 
tion equal  to  her  own,  and  a  despair  only 
less.  SI' 3  loved  another — she  could  never 
love  him;  she  loved  another  —  oh,  how 
vehemently,  how  dearly  she  loved  him ! 
Yet  she  7nitst  be  his! 

"  One  luxir  was  allowed  him,"  murmured 
Lopez  —  "one  hour  to  prepare.  Much  of 
that  hour  has  already  passed.  Say,  will 
you  save  his  life''  ind  shall  I  set  him  free? 
S;iy,  shall  I  go  to  ruin  ?  Say,  will  you  give 
np  as  much  for  me  as  I  am  ready  to  give 
\ip  for  you?  Quick — another  minute,  and 
it  may  be  too  late  !" 

Katie  started  up  wildly. 

"Go!  go!"  she  said,  in  a  hot.  feverish 
whisper.     "  Haste — fly — save  him  !" 

"  You  promise  ?"  said  Lopez. 

"Oh,  my  God!  yes!"  cried  Katie,  and 
iell  senseless  to  the  floor. 

"  See  to  your  mistress,"  saui  Lopez,  in  r 
faltering  voice,  as  he  went  outside  and  met 
the  attendant  there. 

Then  Lopez  went  away,  not  to  free  Hur- 


ry, for  he  was  already  free,  but  to  a  lonely 
room,  wli'  e  he  flung  himself  on  his  face 
on  the  stony  floor,  and  lay  there  long,  weep- 
ing like  a  child. 

i'or  the  agony  of  this  man  at  winning 
Katie  thus  was  equal  to  that  of  Katie  over 
her  act  of  self-sacrifice. 


CHAPTER  XLVH. 

IN  WHICH  LOI'KZ  USK8  IIIS  ADVANTAGE  TO  TIIF. 
ITTKRMOST,  A.M)  KATIK  Sl.SKS  I.NTO  BEEriill  UK- 
Sl'AIU. 

And  so  i^opcz  had  resolved  to  gratify 
both  his  love  and  his  vengeance.  He  was 
determined  at  all  hazards  to  force  Katie  to 
be  his  wife ;  and  at  the  same  time  he  W(nilil 
be  able  to  take  a  sweet  and  most  effectivi' 
revenge  on  the  hated  Ashby.  As  for  this 
new  lover.  Rivers,  wlio  had  so  unexpected- 
ly started  up,  the  decision  was  more  difli- 
cult.  He  felt  no  hate  toward  him  as  he 
(lid  toward  Ashby.  He  had  received  no 
insults  at  his  hands.  There  was  in  lliury's 
manner  none  of  that  outrageous  supercil- 
iousness which  had  made  Ashby  so  detcst- 
al)le.  The  face  of  Rivers  was  of  itself  one 
which  conciliated  all,  and  his  character 
was  visible  in  his  frank,  free,  and  easy  man- 
ners. With  such  a  nnin  it  was  almost  im- 
possible to  (piarrel ;  slill.  the  jealousy  of 
Lopez  had  been  roused  at  the  discovery  of 
Katie's  love  for  Rivers,  and  for  this  he  Iell 
a  resentment.  He  deterinin"d.  therefore,  to 
include  thac  young  man  in  his  plans,  and 
thought  that  the  simplest  and  most  efl'ce- 
ti\e  mode  of  dealiiig  with  him  would  t>'' 
to  invite  him  also  ti)  the  wedding.  Thus 
both  the  lovers  should  see  with  their  own 
eyes  the  end  of  this  afl'air.  Ashby  should 
see  it.  Rivers  also  should  sec  it.  The  jiros- 
pert  was  a  delightful  one,  and  did  much 
toward  res     i    ig  Lopez  to  hi^  cquanimily. 

"  Aha  !"  said  to  himself,  as  lie  reached 
this  conclusion — "ahn,  my  tender,  cooing 
doves!  how  will  you  like  that?" 

Another  thought,  which  gave  him  almost 
equal  delight,  was  that  of  the  revenge 
which  he  would  be  able  to  take  on  Rus- 
sell. Russell  had  stirred  up  his  deepist 
hate.  He  had  insulted  him  at  Madrid,  and 
had  put  a  stop  to  his  attentions  to  Kati". 
H(^  had  publicly  expelled  him  from  tln' 
railway -carriage.  Had  ho  been  Katie's 
father  Lopez  would  have  felt  resontfa! 
enough,  and  would  have  found  it  hard  to 
forgi'.  e ;  but  as  be  was  merely  a  guardian, 


UK    Kl.l  MJ    IIIMSKr.K   ON    Ills    KACK    ON    TIIK    STONV    H.OOIl,   AM)    I.AV    TIIKUK    I.ONO." 


A  CASTLE  IN  SPAIN. 


143 


and  as  Katie  had  no  affection  for  him,  he 
was  under  no  constraint  whatever,  and 
could  gratify  liis  revenge  without  any  liin- 
dcrance.  It  was  to  him  a  most  dcliglitful 
chance  which  had  tlirown  Russell  in  his 
way  under  such  peculiar  and  ridiculous  re- 
lations to  Rita;  and  to  take  advantage  of 
this  was  a  happy  thought,  which  tilled  him 
with  such  exultation  that  for  a.  time  he 
r.lmost  lost  sight  of  the  darker  and  more 
disheartening  side  of  thia  aJfair. 

That  darker  side  was  the  aversion  whidi 
Katie  had  evinced  toward  himself  She 
had  shown  it.  It  was  not  merely  her  love 
for  Rivers;  it  was  something  like  repug- 
nance to  himself,  whieii  had  been  evident 
at  their  first  meeting.  The  juncture  which 
he  considered  most  favorahic  to  his  liopes 
had  evidently  been  most  unfavorable.  He 
had  hoped  to  be  received  as  a  deliverer; 
he  had  only  been  viewed  as  a  captor.  Her 
lace,  her  expression,  her  tears,  her  agony, 
were  all  present  evermore  to  his  memory. 

He  must  see  her  soo\  He  must  press 
on  this  marriage  at  once.  Delay  wov'.d 
only  be  worse.  His  situation  here  was  pre- 
carious. If  lie  were  to  linger  too  long,  the 
Carlists  might  rally,  and  he  would  be  be- 
sieged. Before  that  could  hapjien  he  must 
have  Katio  for  his  wife,  and  then  retreat 
as  fast  as  possible.  He  could  not  defer  the 
marriage  till  they  reached  Vittoria,  for  then 
Katie  would  surely  elude  hini  and  effect 
her  escape,  lie  concluded  that  he  must 
bo  married  on  the  following  day  at  the 
farthest,  and  in  the  morning.  To  post- 
pone it  any  longer  wm  not  to  be  thought 
of 

That  evening  he  visited  Katie  once  more. 
As  he  entered  and  looked  at  her,  he  was 
struck  to  the  heart  to  see  the  change  that 
liad  come  over  her.  She  was  pale,  thin, 
;uid  haggard.  She  looked  up  hastily,  with 
staring  eyes.  Then  she  started  up  and 
looked,  but  said  nothing.  But  Lopez  re- 
flected that  all  this  was  the  result  of  a  love 
for  another,  and  at  that  thought  his  pity 
passed  away.  He  would  go  on  with  his 
work,  he  thought.  He  would  not  be  de- 
flated by  unreasonable  whims,  and  violent 
yet  fitful  gusts  of  passion. 

"  He  is  safe  !"  said  Lopez. 

Katie  clasped  her  hands.  Her  voice  now 
icturned,  and,  casting  up  her  eyes,  she  ejac- 
ulated in  low  tones, 

"  Oh,  timnk  Heaven! — but  where — where 
—lias  ho  "onc?" 

Lopei.  shook  his  head. 


"  Not  yet,"  said  he ;  '•  nor  can  he  go — 
till  your  promise  is  fulfilled." 

Katie  shuddered. 

'•  Is  there — is  there — no  other  way  ?"  sho 
asked,  tremulously, 

"No,"  said  Lopez,  "And  the  promise 
must  be  fulfilled  soon," 

"  Soon  !"  said  Katie,  with  white  lips. 

"I  will  explain,"  said  Lopez.  "I  am  in 
danger  here  in  many  ways  —  enemies  all 
around.  The  moment  that  Rivers  ia  re- 
leased I  am  a  ruined  man,  I  too  nuist  lly; 
but  you  must  accompany  me.  So  the  mo- 
ment that  Rivers  is  free  you  must  be  mine. 
Our  marriage  must  take  i)lace  at  once," 

"At  once  I"  cried  Katie,  with  a  look  of 
horror,     "  Oh  heavens  !" 

Lopez  drew  a  deep  breath.  This  aver- 
sion of  Katie  toward  himself  was  horrible. 

"  Or  else,"  continued  Lopez,  "  in  the 
event  of  your  refusal — " 

"  What  ?  what  ?" 

"  Rivers  is  a  jirisoncr  yet.  He  has  been 
reprieved — that  is  all.  The  court  did  not 
decide," 

"A  prisoner — yet!"  rejieatcd  Katie, 

"He  cannot  go,"  said  Lopez,  "  till  we  are 
married," 

"  Oh  heavens !" 

"  Till  then  lie  is  in  the  greatest  possible 
peril ;  till  then  he  is  only  safe  by  the  most 
violent  exercise  of  arl)itrary  authority  on 
my  part.  Some  of  my  followers  are  in- 
tensely excited :  all  are  mutinous :  they 
clamor  for  his  death.  They  look  at  me 
with  sinister  faces  and  low  muttered  exe- 
crations. With  these  fierce,  implacable 
spirits  how  can  he  be  safe  i  I  am  not  safe 
myself  The  moment  I  set  him  free  I  dare 
not  remain  behind.  I  cannot  go— I  will 
not  go — without  you.  His  life  de))ends  on 
you.  My  men  cannot  be  long  restrained. 
I  n»yself  have  had  to  tell  them  that  it  is 
only  for  twenty-four  hours." 

"  Oh  heavens !"  cried  Katie,  in  even 
deeper  anguish. 

"Hefore  that  time  is  up  he  must  go — 
yes,  long  before  —  so  as  to  bo  well  on  his 
journey,  out  of  reach  of  these  fierce  ene- 
mies. I  must  go  soon  after  he  docs.  I 
cannot  go  alone — I  cannot  give  up  every- 
thing. If  I  give  up  ambition  for  your  sake, 
it  is  only  fair  that  I  should  satisfy  my 
love." 

"Love!"  cried  Katie.  "Oh!  Love!  IIow 
can  ?/««  talk  of  love  I" 

"/>rtre/"  said  Lopez,  bitterly.  "No  one 
ever  felt  it  eo  painfully  as  L" 


A  CASTLE  IN  SPAIN, 

She   turned   away, 


14G 

Katie   was  silent 
wringing  her  hands. 

"  Do  you  wisii  iiis  life  ?" 

"  His  life  ?  Oh  heavens !  am  I  not  ready 
to  lay  down  my  lite  for  him  ?" 

"  Lay  down  your  life  f  repeated  Lopez. 
"  That  is  not  wanted.  No  !  You  have  yet 
a  long  life  to  live  in  love  and  happiness." 

"  Never  I"  said  Katie,  vehemently.  "  There 
is  no  love  or  happiness  in  life  now  for  me. 
I  love  him  —  I  love  him,  and  him  ouly  I 
Oh,  how  I  love  him  I'' 

Lopez  gave  a  sneering  laugh. 

"Pardon  me,  you  are  too  facile  in  your 
loves,  senorita,  to  talk  in  that  strain.  You 
love  so  easily  that  you  will  jjrobabiy  have 
many  love-alfairs  in  your  hai)py  future. 
You  loved  Asliby,  and  in  a  day  or  two  you 
declare  yourself  ready  to  die  for  Uivers  1"' 

This  was  a  bitter  taunt,  but  Katie's  dis- 
tress was  so  deep  tliat  she  ilid  not  feel  it. 

"  Oh,  I  never  knew  love  before !"  said 
she.  "Ithouglit  I  loved  ilr.  Ashliy;  but 
I  Avas  mistaken  —  I  never  loveil  him.  It 
was  notliing;  I  was  inexperienced.  I 
didn't  understand — I  didn't  know.  Rut  I 
know  now.     Oh,  I  know  all  'low — all !"' 

Lopez  felt  rather  pleased  at  Katie's  dec- 
laration about  Ashby.  He  did  not  l)elieve 
her  altogether,  lie  bi'lieved  that  she  had 
loved  him,  but  had  forgotten  him  while 
flirting  with  another.  If  she  had  forgotten 
Aslil>y  so  reatlily,  she  would  also  forget 
Rivers  with  eipial  readiness,  and  say  quite 
as  boldly  that  slie  had  never  loved  Rivers. 
Tins  ))assion  was  a  sudden  whim  —  it  was 
no  more  than  a  dream;  she  was  hardly  in 
her  right  mind,  slie  was  infatuated.  Of 
course  she  would  get  over  it.  And  he  de- 
termined to  use  his  advantages  to  the  ut- 
most.    So  he  returned  to  the  subject. 

"You  sec,"  said  he,  "as  long  as  Rivers 
is  here,  he  is  sul))ect  to  tlie  mosi  deadly 
peril.  He  is  even  now  in  danger.  Do  you 
wish  to  save  him  ?" 

"  Oh  heavens !"'  critfd  Katie.  "  I  do  !  I 
do!" 

"Well,  then,  you  must  do  as  I  have  said." 

Katie  moaned. 

"Will  you  ?" 

"  Oh,  let  mo  wait !    I'll  promise  anything 

—  cve-ything;  but,  for  Heaven's  sake,  let 
mo  wait  —  only  a  little,  little  time!  Oh. 
sefior,  on  ..i**  knees  I  fall  —  I  pray,  as  1 
would  pray  to  Heaven,  give  me  time — time 

—  time!  omy  a  little  —  only  a  very,  very 
little!" 

Katie  knoll ;  she  put  her  palms  together; 


she  looked  up,  as  in  prayer,  to  tiiis  mighty 
tyrant  who  held  over  iier  such  i)ower.  Lo- 
pez could  not  endure  tiie  sight :  it  filled 
liim  with  tender  pity,  with  grief,  with  re- 
morse.    He  began  to  yield. 

Instinctively  lie  bent  down  and  took  her 
in  liis  arms.  He  was  about  to  grant  her 
everything.  IK  was  about  to  tell  her,  with 
tears,  that  he  would  grant  her  years,  if  she 
would  only  promise  to  try  to  love  him. 

But  Katie  misunderstood  his  action.  The 
toucli  of  his  arms  was  enough — it  was  too 
much!  She  tore  herself  away,  and  stood 
shuddering  and  wee{)ing. 

Lopez  felt  that  gesture  of  loatliing  and 
aversion  cut  iike  a  knife  to  his  inmost 
being.  At  once  all  tenilerness,  all  pity,  de- 
parted. He  determined  to  have  no  more 
of  this  tritling. 

" Listen  1"  .said  he,  coldly.  "By  saving 
Rivers  I  destroy  myself  You  must  be  my 
wife.  I  must  then  fly — do  you  hear? — tly 
from  Spain,  from  my  country,  from  all  I 
have  loved :  I  must  be  an  e.xile.  This  is 
all  for  you.  Tiiink  of  all  that  I  give  up 
for  you !  I  cannot  postpone.  If  I  post- 
j)one,  my  peojile  will  kill  Rivers  and  my- 
self trto.  The  life  of  Rivers  depends  on 
you  alone." 

Katie  said  not  a  word.  She  was  help- 
less. 

"To-morrow,  early,"  said  Lopez,  "you 
must  be  mine.  Rivers  shall  be  then  set 
free." 

AVithout  waiting  for  any  further  words, 
Lopez  bade  her  adieu,  and  retired. 


CHAPTER   XLVIIL 

HOW    LOPEZ    GOi:S    TO    SKK  TUK    miKST    ADOei   UIS 
.M.VUHI.KiK. 

Akteu  leaving  Kutie,  Lopez  decided  to 
give  notice  to  the  priest  about  the  nature 
of  the  ceremony  that  was  to  be  performed, 
and  also  to  appoint  the  time  for  its  per- 
formance on  the  following  morning. 

As  he  entered  tlie  room  Talbot  saw  in 
his  face  the  sign  of  some  important  jjur- 
pose.  At  once  she  divined  it.  She  had 
already  made  up  her  mind  as  to  what  tlint 
Sv.'rvico  would  be  that  Lopez  expected  of 
her,  and  what  her  own  action  should  bo. 
Brooke  also,  in  spite  of  his  ])lausil)le  ar- 
guments, w-.s  afraid  that  she  was  only  too 
near  the  truth,  and  such  terrors  gnthercd 
around  the   prospect  that  lio   could   not 


tmm 


A  CASTLE  IN  SPAIN. 


147 


think  of  it.  But  now  all  suspense  was  at 
an  end.  The  trutli  was  about  to  be  made 
known,  and,  whatever  it  was,  they  would 
have  to  luce  it. 

"  Senor,"  said  Lopez,  addressing?  himself 
to  Brooke,  yet  courteously  inchuling  Tal- 
bot in  his  glance,  "  I  have  now  coino  to 
tell  you  why  I  have  required  thus  far  the 
company  of  your  friend  tlu^  priest,  and  you 
may  explain  to  liim  what  I  liavj  to  say.  It 
is  for  a  very  simple  and  pleasing  ceremony 
— namely,  a  marriage." 

"  A  marriage  !"  repeated  Brooke,  in  a 
low  voice. 

Tiiat  word,  sometimes  .«o  full  of  joyous 
meaning  and  so  surnnuuled  with  associa- 
tions of  mirth  and  festivity,  now  rang  in 
Brooke's  ears  with  a  sound  as  harsh  and 
terrible  as  that  of  a  death-knell.  It  was 
the  void  which  he  dreaded  more  than  all 
others  to  hear  from  tlic  lips  of  Lopez.  His 
heart  sank  within  him,  and  he  knew  not 
what  to  think,  or  where  to  turn  for  hope. 
That  Talipot  would  refuse  to  perform  this 
ceremony  he  felt  convinced,  but  wli.at  would 
l)c  the  consequences  of  such  a  refusal  un- 
der such  circumstances  ? 

"  The  priest,"  continued  Lopez,  wlio  had 
not  noticed  any  difference  in  Brooke's  man- 
ner, and  was  not  at  all  aware  of  the  intense 
agitation  which  now  pervaded  all  his  frame 
— "the  priest  will  be  ready  to  jierform  tlie 
ceremony  at  an  early  hour  to-morrow  morn- 
ing." 

"  To-morrow  morning !"  repeated  Brooke, 
mechanically. 

W(U-se  and  worse !  This  man  was  hur- 
rying matters  so  that  ho  did  not  leave 
any  time  for  thought,  much  less  for  action. 
To-morrow  morning,  at  an  early  hour !  Oh, 
terrible  haste  !  Oh,  fearful  flight  of  time! 
Was  there,  then,  so  short  a  time  nntil  this 
new  ordeal,  with  its  now  dangers  ?  Brooke 
shuddered. 

A  sudden  thought  now  came  to  him,  at 
which  he  grasped  eagerly.  It  was  utterly 
useless,  nnd  he  knew  it,  but  it  was  all  that 
lie  had  to  oiler  against  this  man's  resolu- 
tion. 

"Can  the  priest  officiate  without  the 
government  license  ?" 

"Government  license  !"' repeated  Lopez, 
"  Of  course.  The  Church  does  not  ask  jn-r- 
mission  of  the  State  to  perform  the  solcnm 
^^acraments.  What  has  the  State  to  do  wltli 
the  acts  of  a  priest  of  t'.ie  Church  ?" 

"  Oh,  I  don't  know,''  said  Brooke,  deject- 
edly ;  "  it's  different  in  other  countries." 


"  Spain,"  said  Lopez,  severely  —  "  Spain 
is  a  Christian  country." 

"  True — true  ;  I  forgot,"  said  Brooke. 

"  In  an  intidel  country,"  continued  Lo- 
pez, "  like  England  or  Anxerica,  the  State 
regulates  marriage,  of  course  ;  liut  it  is  dif- 
ferent in  Spain — very  different." 

Brooke  scarcely  heard  this.  He  was 
groping  about  mentally  in  search  of  an 
idea.  Another  one  came — a  hopeless  one, 
like  the  last  —  but  he  caught  at  it,  since 
there  was  nothing  else  to  do. 

"This  priest,"  said  he,  "is  an  English- 
uuui." 

"  Well  I"  said  Lopez,  with  a  slight  ex- 
[)ression  of  surprise. 

"I  didn't  know  but  that  it  might  make 
some  dirt'erence,"  said  Brooke,  meekly. 

"  Dilference  !     How  T 

"  Not— not  knowing  your  language,  you 
know." 

"  My  language  I"  said  Lopez  ;  "  what 
does  that  matter?  He  has  the  language 
of  the  Church,  and  that  language  every 
priest  uses  m  the  formulas  and  services 
of  the  Church,  whether  he  is  a  Spaniard,  or 
an  Englishman,  or  an  African  negro.  He 
celel)ratcs  the  sacraments  in  the  words  laid 
down  by  the  Church,  and  the  languages 
of  the  various  nations  have  nothing  to  do 
with  these  holy  rites.  I  fear,  scftor,  you 
are  raising  objections  which  will  seem  as 
strange  and  unreasonable  to  your  friend, 
this  good  priest,  as  they  do  to  me." 

At  this  Brooke  was  struck  dumb.  lie 
had  nothing  more  to  say. 

"  You  will  tell  your  friend,"  said  Lopez, 
"  to  be  ready  at  an  early  hcmr  to-morrow 
morning.  I  also  will  do  myself  the  honor, 
senor,  fo  invite  you  to  give  us  the  jileas- 
ure  of  your  company  on  this  occasion." 

Brooke  bowed,  and  murmured  something 
al)oiit  the  consciousness  which  he  had  of 
the  honor  that  Lopez  had  done  him;  and 
in  the  midst  of  these  commonplaces  Lopez 
retired. 

After  his  departure  Brooke  remained  si- 
lent for  a  long  time.  TalI)ot  feared  tlio 
worst,  and  as  she  had  divined  already  the 
meaning  of  this  visit,  she  understood  per- 
fectly the  feelings  of  Brooke.  So  she  said 
not  a  word,  but  patiently  waited  until  ho 
chose  to  speak.     At  length  he  told  her  all. 

"  I  thought  so,"  said  Talbot. 

"  What  will  you  do  ?"  aeked  Brooke,  in 
ft  low  voice. 

"  Nothing,''  said  Talbot,  simply. 

"  Nothing  ?"  repeated  Brooke. 


148 

"  Wlmt  can  I  ilo  ?" 

"Cim  you  not  do  what  lie  request3?" 
nski'il  Hrooko,  in  ii  truiuljlinjj:  voice. 

"Wlmt!  and  many  theia<" 

"  Why  not  V 

"It  is  impossible!"  said  Talbot,  finnly. 

*'  Oil  heaveiis !"  uioaued  Brooke,  in  a  tone 
of  despair. 

"Oh,  Hrookc,  do  not  talk  like  that!" 
said  Talbot,  entreatingly.  "  Have  I  not 
already  said  all  that  can  be  .said  C 

"Well,"  said  Brooke,  "listen  to  reason 
for  ii  moment.  Only  think  what  marriage 
is.  It  is  a  union  of  two  lovinj;'  hearts.  In 
Scotland  people  marry  tliemselves.  Wliy 
cannot  you  do  in  Spain  ■what  you  uiiyht 
safely  do  in  Scotland  {"" 

"Yes,"  siiitl  Talbot,  "and  in  Turkey  a 
man  may  marry  a  hundred  wives.  Why 
may  not  you  do  in  Spain  what  you  may 
safely  do  in  Turkey?  Oil,  Brooke!  15rooke! 
Are  you  altoj!;ether  camlid  now.  and  true 
to  your  better  self^  Do  not  tem))t  me, 
Brooke.  Do  not  trj  to  shako  me.  My 
mind  is  clear  on  this  point.  I  cannot  do 
wrong,  not  even  to  please  yon,  Brooke.^' 

As  Tall)ot  Siaid  tliis  she  looked  at  Brooke 
with  a,  ylancc  that  penetrated  to  his  soul. 
Ilcr  eves  showed  unfathomable  tenderness 
and  devotion,  yet  her  face  and  her  voice 
told  of  a  resolve  that  was  inunutable. 

Then  Brooke  tried  another  touQ. 

"Confound  these  Spaniards!"  lie  cried. 
"Talbot!  Talbot]  Come,  why  not  marry 
this  con|>lc  of  cursed  fools  and  have  done 
witii  it?" 

Of  these  words  Tidbot  took  no  notice 
whatever.  She  was  silent  for  a  time  and 
thonjrhtful.     Then  she  went  on  to  sj)eak  ; 

"  I  know.  I  begin,  I  think,  to  under- 
stand all  about  it.  The  girl  he  means  to 
marry  is  this  English  girl,  the  daughter  of 
Mrs.  Russell.  Ca])tain  Lopez  love('  her,  as 
we  were  told.  lie  has  followed  her  here, 
and  efTectcd  her  deliverance  from  her  Car- 
list  oajitors,  and  now,  as  a  matter  of  course, 
she  feels  grateful  to  him  and  is  willing  to 
marry  him.  But  how  can  I  do  anything  i 
I  cannot.  It  is  horril.ile  sacrilege.  It  is 
frightful  sin.  No;  I  will  tell  him  the 
whole  trut]\." 

Brooke  looked  at  her  with  a  face  of 
angu'i.sli. 

"Oh,  Talbot," said  he,  "if  you  do.wliat 
will  become  of  you  ?" 

"  What  ?"  said  Talbot,  in  a  firm  voice. 

"  He  will  kill  you — and  worse  than  that," 
said  Brooke. 


A  CASTLE  IN  SPAIN. 


"  Why  should  he  kill  me  ?"  said  Talbot. 
"  It  will  do  him  no  good.  What  cause  will 
he  have  to  kill  me  <" 

"  I  have  thought  it  all  over,"  said  Brooke, 
"all  over,  a  thousand  times.  I  have  spee- 
ulatetl  as  to  the  possible  result  of  a  frank 
disclosure,  and  I've  come  to  the  conclusion 
that  it  is  better  to  run  every  risk  in  this 
disguise,  and  go  even  to  the  verge  of  death, 
rather  than  divulge  your  secret  now." 

"  Divulge  my  secret !"  .said  Talitot,  in  .sur- 
))rise.  "And  why  not?  What  is  there  to 
divulge  ?  I  have  only  to  say  that  I  am  not 
a  priest  — I  am  an  English  lady,  who  have 
assumed  this  disguise  as  a  safeguard." 

Brooke  sighed. 

"  It's  too  late,  too  late  !  Oh,  fool  that  I 
was — cursed,  cursed  fool !  But  I  was  afraid 
to  trust  those  llepublicans;  I  feared  that 
they  might  harm  you  if  they  knew  you  to 
be  a  woman.  It  was  for  your  sake  that  I 
kept  your  secret,  and  now  it  has  turned 
out  to  be  the  very  worst  thing  that  I  could 
have  done." 

"  I  deny  that  it  was  the  worst,"  said  Tal- 
bot, calmly.  "Thus  far  it  lias  protected 
me  most  ell'cctively.  As  for  the  future,  we 
have  yet  to  choose  our  plans," 

"Too  late  !"  said  Brooke. 

"  I  do  not  tiunk  so,''  said  Talbot.  "  You 
do  not  give  any  reasons.  At  any  rate,  I 
will  try—" 

"  Do  iu)t !  tlo  not !"  said  Brooke,  earnest- 
ly. "  It  is  too  late.  I  will  tell  you.  You 
see,  tliis  deception  has  gone  on  so  long,  and 
his  trust  in  you  is  so  profound,  that  tiu; 
shock  woukl  be  more  than  he  could  bear. 
As  a  priest  you  have  won  his  confidence, 
even  his  reverence.  If  you  now  tell  him 
that  it  was  all  a  cheat,  his  wrath  would 
burst  forth  beyond  all  bounds.  He  would 
consider  it  an  outrage  on  his  holiest  and 
most  generous  feelings.  lie  would  believe 
that  you  had  wantonly  tritled  with  all  that 
is  most  sacred  and  mo.st  sensitive  in  the 
heart.  Then  there  is  more  than  this.  For 
some  reason  he  is  bent  on  marrying  this 
girl.  If  you  refuse  now,  and  tell  hiui  the 
truth,  it  will  only  intensify  his  resentment 
against  you,  and  turn  it  into  a  vengeful 
fury.  There  is  no  pain  that  he  will  not 
inflict.  There  will  be  nothing  too  horrible 
for  his  revenge.  He  will  say  that  you  de- 
ceived and  cheated  him  unnecessarily  and 
persistently;  that  cveu  if  there  was  a  ne- 
cessity for  it  in  the  first  place,  you  might 
at  least  liavo  confided  in  him  after  he  had 
shown  himself  so  merciful  to  mc.     He  will 


A  CASTLE  IN  SPAIN. 


14'J 


say  thiit  you  must  nave  lonml  liini  out  to 
bo  a  cliivalroii."  jicntlenian,  iu  wlioso  \)vo- 
tectiou  you  would  liavo  Ijcimi  Hiil'r,  and  tlii.s 
maiiiti'nauco  of  your  disj^aiise  all  tliis  tiuiu 
and  up  to  the  last  monaiit  was  a  mot.kciy 
and  a  sluini.  And  tliircloic,"  concluded 
Brooke, "  every  otlier  resource  ouj^dit  liist 
to  l)C  tried,  and  this  should  not  he  made 
use  ot'till  all  others  have  failed.  It  will  be 
useless  at  any  time,  but  if  it  is  nuide  use 
of  at  all,  it  oujxht  to  be  last  of  all." 

"  Well,  I  don't  know,"  said  Talbot, doubt- 
fully, "I  will  do  as  you  say,  Hrooke;  but 
to  j^o  on  in  thi»  way,  and  keep  up  this  dis- 
guise till  the  last,  seems  to  me  to  involve 
certain  tlestruction.  1  suppose  he  cannot 
be  persuaded  to  postpone  the  marriaije." 

Brooke  shook  his  liead  despondinj^ly. 

">!o,"  said  he,  "that  is  iinpossi!)ie. 
There  is  some  stronjj  reason  for  this  haste. 
lie  has,  perhaps,  extorted  some  promise 
from  the  ,i,drl.  Perhaps  she  does  not  love 
him.  Perhaps  he  is  afraid  if  he  <^ives  her 
time  that  she  will  back  out  of  it,  and  is 
iletermined  to  marry  her  while  ho  has  the 
chance." 

"If  that  is  the  case,"  said  Talbot,  "it 
only  makes  it  worse  for  me.  If  she  docs 
not  love  him,  and  all  this  is  as  you  saj-, 
there  is  another  and  a  stronifer  reason  for 
my  refusal  to  have  anything  to  do  with 
such  sacrilei^c  and  sin." 

"  01),  Tall)ot  1"  said  Brooke.  lie  turned 
his  face  toward  her.  It  was  a  face  of  ago- 
ny; there  was  despair  in  his  look.  "Oh. 
Talbot!  I  could  bear  this  trial,  any  trial, 
for  myself;  but  for  you — for  you,  Talbot," 
he  contin"' d,  in  thrilling  tones,  "for  yon 
I  cannot  iM.irit.  Think  I  Can  you  not  do 
something  i:" 

Talbot  trembled.  Iler  eyes  filled  with 
tears.  For  a  time  she  stood  thus  with 
([uivcring  lips  and  trembling  hand.s,  strug- 
gling with  her  emotion,  and  without  much 
success.  When  she  was  able  at  last  to 
speak  it  was  in  tremulous,  broken  tones. 

"Oh,  Brooke!"  she  said,  "for  your  sake 
I  ■would  do  anything,  anything;  but  I  can- 
not, even  for  your  sake,  do  .vrong  to  oth- 
ers. For  you  —  if  it  were  myself  alone 
that  were  concerned — I  might  be  tempted 
to  do  an  act  of  sacrilege — or  sin.  Ask  me 
to  sulfer  for  you,  Brooke,  and  I  will  suffer : 
oh,  how  gladly  1  Yes,  Brooke,"  she  con- 
tinned,  in  a  voice  that  sent  a  thrill  through 
all  his  being — "  yes,  Brooke,  ask  mo  to  die 
for  you,  or  let  the  chance  ari.se  in  which  I 
may  die  to  save  you,  and  I  will  die.     But 


do  not  look  at  me  so,  Brooke !  do  not  look 
at  me  so!  Your  face  is  full  of  despair; 
your  look  is  the  look  of  one  whose  heart 
is  breaking;  and  thi.s,  Brooke,  this  seems 
worse  than  dc^atli !  !V'  your^;e!f,  Brooke! 
rouse  yourself!  Cannot  you  take  refuge 
in  some  other  thoughts  {  The  very  worst 
of  your  songs  might  rouse  you  now.  Wing, 
Brooke  —  sing  anything.  Talk  nonsense, 
and  save  your  heart  ami  mine  from 
breaking !" 

Brooke  turned  away,  and  walked  up  and 
down  for  a  few  minutes,  while  he  struggled 
to  regain  his  comi)osure.  The  struggle 
war.  a  severe  one,  but  he  succeeded  in  as- 
suming an  outward  calm.  He  at  length 
returned,  and,  jilaeing  himself  before  Tal- 
bot, gave  that  short  laugh  of  his,  and  said, 
with  some  of  his  old  rattle, 

"  Well,  Talbot  lad,  you're  more;  than  halt 
right.  And,  as  I've  always  said,  there's 
nothing  like  a  good  song— and  I've  lots  of 
good  songs ;  but  as  you  suggest  a  bad  song 
— in  fact,  the  worst  of  all  my  songs — why, 
I  dare  say  it  wouldn't  be  a  bad  idea  to  sing 
it.  By-the-bye,  Talbot,  you  ought  to  learn 
to  sing — at  least,  to  hum  tunes.  I'll  teach 
you  how  to  whistle,  if  you  like.  I  wonder 
if  this  Spanish  cur  likes  music.  I'll  sing 
you  a  song,  if  you  like,  and  I'll  bet  ten 
cents  you  never  heard  it  before." 

Aiul  Brook(!  sang,  to  a  most  extraordi- 
nary tune,  these  most  extraordinary  words: 

"  Oh,  (I  rnpRcdy  ennpr  to  the  piper  d.'xiiccd, 

of  tiilterdcmnlioiiB  all, 
Till  Uie  corpulent  buller  drove  them  off 

Iteyoiid  the  manor  wall. 
Tlie  rncuedy  piper  shook  his  flat: 

'A  minslrol'H  curse  on  tiiee, 
Thou  lubberly,  dnck-icjiu'd  fon  of  a  gun, 

Kor  BCltiu'  dorgs  on  we  !' " 

"Brooke,"  said  Talbot,  with  her  usual 
calm,  sad  face,  "  I'm  glad  tliat  you  are  sing- 
ing, though  your  song  is  certainly  slightly 
vulgar." 

"  Oh,  I  know  it,"  said  Brooke ;  "  but  then 
vulgarity  is  sometimes  a  very  good  thing. 
It  don't  do  for  people  to  be  too  fastidious. 
The  fact  is,  this  age  is  over-refined,  and  I'm 
bound  to  reform  it,  or  perish." 


CHAPTER  XLIX. 

now  LOrK.7,   INVITES   HARRY   TO   HIS  WF.DDINO,  AND 
now   IIAnilY   MAKKS    A   DISTrUIlANCE. 

On  the  following  day  the  pri.soncrs  were 
roused  at  dawn.  First  of  ail,  Ashby  was 
taken  to  the  room  in  which  the  marriage 


150 


A  CASTLE  IN  SPAIN. 


ceremony  was  to  Ijc  performed,  wliich  -nns 
tlie  same  room  where  the  lUiwsell  party  lia<l 
been  eonfiiied.  Haifa  (h>z('n  Holdiers  came 
for  liim,  and  went  tliroiiyli  the  solemn 
inoekery  of  treating  him  us  an  invited 
{,'ucst.  lie  liad  seareely  arrived  liere  when 
Harry  also  reaeiied  the  jilaee.  A  special 
invitation  from  Lopez  to  be  present  at  a 
Medding  had  attracted  him,  and  tilled  liiin 
with  wonder  and  curiosity.  His  anxiety 
about  Katie,  and  his  hinying  to  see  her, 
were  as  strong  as  ever,  and  the  efl'e(;t  of 
these  feelings  was  manifest  in  his  j)ale  face 
and  agitated  manner ;  but  his  desire  to 
l)lease  Lopez  and  retain  his  good-will  had 
drawn  him  here  to  be  a  spectator,  though 
his  al)stracted  air  showed  that  liis  thoughts 
were  elsewhere.  Thus,  silent  and  i)reoc- 
cupied,  Harry  stood  apart;  and  Asliliy, 
mindful  of  their  recent  hostile  meeting, 
kept  to  himself,  and  made  no  motion  to- 
Avard  holding  any  communication  wliat- 
cvcr. 

As  they  stood  thus,  a  tliird  comer  ap- 
peared uj^on  the  scene. 

This  was  Russell.  lie  still  wore  his 
woman's  dress,  liaving  a  vague  idea  that 
it  might  prove  of  service  in  some  new  at- 
tempt to  escape,  thougli  quite  unable  to 
imagine  any  way  in  which  such  escape 
could  bo  possible.  Harry,  attracted  by  this 
singular  figure,  looked  at  him,  and  recog- 
nized lum  at  once,  and  the  eflect  upon  him 
was  so  strong  that,  in  spite  of  his  melan- 
choly, he  burst  into  a  roar  of  laughter. 

Russell,  at  this,  threw  toward  him  a  pit- 
eous look  of  a))peal,  and  then  approaclied 
lum,  in  seareli  after  sympatliy.  The  two 
M'cre  soon  engaged  in  conversation,  while 
Ash  by,  whom  this  ludicrous  figure  lind 
very  forcibly  afTected,  stood  aloof  watching 
liini,  with  a  smile  on  his  face  which  he  was 
unable  to  rcjiress. 

The  iiidiappy  Russell,  full  of  horror  at 
the  pros))ect  before  him,  still  clung  to  some 
vague  and  undefined  hopes  that  at  the  very 
last  moment  some  chance  might  intervene 
to  prevent  the  terrible  tragedy  of  a  mar- 
riage with  Rita.  The  appearance  of  Harry 
seemed  a  good  omen.  He  hailed  it  as  such  ; 
and  had  an  angel  appeared,  the  sight  could 
scarcely  have  atlbrded  more  joy  to  the  virt- 
uous Russell  than  that  which  he  felt  at  tlie 
sight  of  Harry. 

While  these  two  were  conversing,  Brooke 
appeared,  followed  by  Talbot.  Harry's  back 
was  turned  to  the  door,  so  that  he  did  not 
see  Talbot,  and  Talbot  did  not  sec  his  face. 


Hut  even  if  Harry's  face  had  been  full  be- 
f()r(!  her,  she  would  iiot  have  seen  it.  With 
a  slow  stej),  a  face  i)ale  as  marl)]e,  and  eyes 
ti.veil  on  the  floor,  deep  in  thoughts  which 
were  far,  far  removed  from  this  room  and 
its  surroundings,  Talbot  entered,  following 
Brooke,  who  was  as  blind  to  the  assembled 
company  and  as  deeply  preoccujjied  as 
herself.  Before  each  there  was  a  terrible 
ordeal.  As  for  Talbot,  she  was  to  be  the 
central  figure,  and  how  could  she  perform 
her  i»art '  For  Talbot  it  was  a  simple  mat- 
ter to  s\un  up  the  whole  situation.  She 
could  either  consent  or  refuse.  But  for 
Brooke  there  was  a  harder  task.  It  Avas 
for  him  to  try  to  discover  some  way  of  sav- 
ing a  friend,  whom  to  save  was  an  imj)()ssi- 
bility.  And  so  all  that  Talbot  sufVered  was 
likewise  sufVered  by  Brooke,  who,  in  aildi- 
tion,  liad  Ids  own  peculiar  sufferings  to 
bear,  while  Talbot,  in  addition  to  her  own 
sufferings,  was  afflicted  still  more  by  the 
full  knowledge  of  all  that  Brooke  w  un- 
dergoing. 

While  Harry  was  talking  with  Russell 
he  threw  a  casual  glance  around,  and 
caught  the  outline  of  Talbot's  figure.  He 
saw  —  what  ?  Only  the  priest,  as  lie 
thought.  It  was  enough  for  him.  A  mere 
])riest  was  a  profoundly  uninteresting  per- 
sonage. His  eyes  saw  no  deeper  than  the 
external  dress,  and  he  went  on  talking  with 
Russell. 

Two  or  three  more  soldier  now  came 
in,  until  at  length  there  were  about  a  doz- 
en. All  the  other  soldiers  were  outside. 
At  any  other  time  this  unusual  ceremony 
would  have  attracted  a  few  idle  gazers; 
but  just  now  all  the  rest  of  the  men  wvvtt 
intent  upon  the  important  business  of 
breakfast,  which  was  just  being  ladled  out 
to  each  from  a  huge  caldron. 

Now  Rita  entered,  and  with  her  came 
Katie,  leaning  feebly  on  her  arm. 

Lopez  followed. 

At  the  sight  of  these  two  Avomen  Russell 
and  Harry  stopped  their  conversation  ab- 
ruptly. For  each  one  the  sight  was  an 
overwhelming  sensation.  To  Russell  it 
was  as  though  his  last  hour  had  come. 
Here  was  his  persecutor,  his  tormentor, 
who  was  resolved  to  marry  him  whether  he 
woidd  or  not.  He  had  confided  his  griefs 
to  Harry,  but  had  been  unable  to  obtain 
from  him  any  satisfactory  advice.  What 
should  he  do  i  He  could  not  say ;  he 
could  not  even  think.  Could  he  dare  to 
say  "No,"  when  Lojicz  and  Rita  and  the 


A  CASTLE  IN  SPAIN. 


151 


priest  iind  all  the  soUlicrs expected  "  Ye??" 
Could  he  fiico  the  awful  result  of  disol.e- 
diciKC  to  Lopez,  of  defuuiee  to  Rita  i  His 
whole  iiiifuie  .shniiik  buek  in  terror  from 
the  tliou>,'ht,  mid  i)roinpted  hiin,  in  this 
dire  emergency,  of  two  evils  to  choose  the 
least. 

To  Hurry,  nlso,  the  sight  of  Katie  was 
oquidiy  overwhelming,'.  He  was  struck 
(Uiinl).  He  stood  rooted  to  tlic  spot,  while 
wonder,  suspicion,  and  fear  all  struggled 
together  within  him. 

What  was  tiie  meaning  of  all  tliis  ?  A 
marriage  ?— n  marriage  of  this  Spanish  cap- 
tain ?  With  whom  ?  Who  was  the  bride  ? 
What  was  Katie  doing  here?  And  why 
was  Katie  coming  here  in  such  a  manner, 
with  downcast  eyes,  death-pale  face,  and 
drooping,  tremhling  figure,  scarce  able  to 
A\alk,  and  leaning  so  heavily  upon  the  arm 
of  this  Spanish  woman?  Such  were  the 
(lucstions  which  Harry,  in  his  bewilder- 
ment, asked  himself  and  could  not  ii.iswer. 
To  see  Katie  thus  was  like  the  stroke  of  a 
thunder-bolt,  and  he  was  dumb  with  won- 
der. She  came  with  no  word,  no  smile,  no 
look  for  him  ;  she  came  like  a  helpless  vic- 
tim destined  for  the  sacrilice. 

Ashby  also  saw  all  of  this!  He  had  felt 
already  the  cxtrcmest  bitterness  toward 
Katie,  yet  the  sight  of  iier  now  was  power- 
ful enough  to  awaken  within  him  the  deep- 
est pity.  What  was  the  meaning  of  this  ? 
Was  Katie  the  bride?  Was  she  about  to 
marry  Lopez  ?  Was  this  the  revenge  which 
i.opc'z  had  planned  ?  It  was  manifestly 
so ;  and  yet  why  had  Katie  consented  i 
.To  could  not  understand  it.  It  seemed 
like  a  fresh  proof  of  her  frivolity  and  falsi- 
ty; and  at  such  an  exhibition  he  felt  be- 
wildered. She  had  been  false  to  him  for 
the  sake  of  Rivers;  was  she  also  false  to 
Rivers  for  the  sake  of  Lopez  ? 

And  yet,  in  .spite  of  such  thoughts  as 
these,  Ashl)y  was  full  of  pity  for  her.  He 
could  not  help  it.  And  justly  so  ;  for  hard 
indeed  must  that  heart  have  been  which 
could  have  remained  unmoved  at  such  a 
sight.  Never  was  a  bride  seen  more  de- 
spairing. There  was  agony  in  her  face, 
and  in  her  attitude,  and  in  her  gestures. 
It  was  not  a  bride  that  he  saw ;  it  was  a 
\  ictim.  It  was  an  alter  of  sacrifice  upon 
which  Katie  was  to  be  offered  up — not  an 
altar  of  love. 

And  thus  Ashby,  like  Harry,  stood  over- 
whelmed at  this  unexpected  sight. 

Harry  felt  an  almost  irrepressible  im- 


pulse to  spring  forward  and  greet  lier,  but 
something  there  was  in  her  look  which  de- 
terred him.  It  was  her  face  ol' despair,  her 
attitude  of  utter  weakness  and  prostration, 
her  downcast  eyes,  her  averted  look.  He 
could  not  move  ;  he  was  petrified.  There 
came  over  him  something  like  a  feeling  of 
horror.  He  shuddered  at  the  sight.  All 
his  tiioughts  and  all  his  soul  were  fixed  on 
her,  while  he  kept  asking  himself,  What  is 
this  ?  What  does  it  mean  ?  A  marriage  ? 
And  is  this  the  bride — Katie? 

Meanwhile  Lopez  had  taken  up  a  posi- 
tion at  tlie  upper  end  of  the  room,  and, 
looking  around  with  a  sarcastic  smile,  be- 
gan to  make  a  few  remarks  : 

"  Seiiors,"  saiil  he,  "  I  have  done  myself 
the  honor  of  reiiuesting  your  company  on 
this  occasion,  so  as  to  hav(!  your  presence 
on  the  happiest  moment  of  my  life,  on  the 
joyful  moment  when  I  am  to  be  united  in 
the  holy  bonils  of  matrimony  to  one  whom 
I  have  long  loved,  and  whom  1  have  at  last 
won  by  rescuing  her  from  a  fearful  jieril. 
I  shall  expect  your  warmest  congratula- 
tions; but  however  warm  they  may  be, 
tliey  cannot  be  adetpiate  to  the  occasi(Ui 
that  calls  them  forth." 

At  this  s])eech  Harry  stood  transfixed. 
Then  his  whole  nature  and  aspect  changed 
instantly  and  utterl)'.  His  face  grew  death- 
white,  there  glowed  a  burning  spot  on  each 
cheek,  and  his  eyes,  as  he  stared  at  Lopez, 
blazed  with  the  fury  of  a  madman. 

"  Senor,"  said  he,  feverishly  and  in  a  loud 
voice,  "  who  is  the  lady  ?" 

Lopez  smiled  scornfully,  and  took  Katie's 
cold  hand  in  his. 

"  This,"  said  he, "  is  the  lady — my  chosen 
bride." 

Scarce  was  the  action  done,  scarce  were 
the  words  spoken,  when  Harry's  hand, 
quick  as  lightning,  had  plunged  into  his 
breast  pocket  and  snatched  forth  a  revolv- 
er. In  an  instant  it  was  levelled.  Lopez 
saw  the  act,  and  with  ra])id  presence  of 
mind  dropped  Katie's  hand  and  Ihmg  him- 
self flat  on  the  floor. 

At  the  same  instant  two  shots  in  imme- 
diate succession  came  from  Harry's  revolv- 
er. In  another  instant  Lopez  was  on  his 
feet,  and  had  bounded  against  his  assail- 
ant. A  fierce  struggle  followed.  Harry 
hurled  Lopez  to  the  floor;  but  the  soldiers 
rushed  up,  and  those  without,  hearing  the 
noise,  hurried  in.  All  was  the  wildest  con- 
fusion, in  the  midst  of  which  w^as  Harry 
struggling  like  a  wild  beast  with  overpow- 


152 


A  CASTLE  IN  SPAIN. 


crinj.;  numbers.  He  wns  iit  k'nf,'th  liehl 
last  hy  the  tierce  Holdiers,  who  wislied  to 
kill  liiin  oil  the  spot,  but  were  restruiiied 
by  Lope/. 

"Tie  his  liiinds  behind  him,"  he  cried,  in 
11  loud  voice,  "iukI  Iciive  him  here.  Don't 
liurt  him.  it's  nothing  ut  all.  It's  uli  a 
uiistake." 

Hut  amidst  the  crowd  of  those  who  rush- 
ed upon  Harry,  Katie,  witli  u  wild  scream, 
had  flun;^  herself;  anil  as  they  now  retreat- 
ed at  the  coniniand  of  their  leader,  she 
cau^lit  her  prostrate  lover  in  her  arms, and 
fainted.  Lopez  draj,'i,'ed  her  away  rudely. 
Harry,  with  his  hands  tied  behind  him, 
rose  up  and  looked  all  around  in  despair. 

Amidst  that  wikl  uproar,  Talhot  had 
been  roused  from  her  deep  abstraction. 
She  looked  up,  and  as  the  stru<J!:j,de  sub- 
sided she  saw  risin<?  full  before  her  out  of 
the  crowd  of  combatants  the  face  of  Harry 
Kivers.  She  recoj^nized  it,  and  there  came 
over  her  heart  a  cohl  shudder,  followed  by 
a  dark  despair,  in  comparison  with  which 
her  late  troubles  now  seemed  trivial. 

For  this  was  Hurry  Rivers,  the  man  for 
whose  sake  she  had  come  to  Spain  I 


CHAPTER  L. 

now    I.OPKZ    INVITKS    THE    I'lUEST    TO    MAURY    HIM, 
AND   now  THE   PUIE.ST   MAKES   A   DISTUItUANCE. 

Alt.  was  wild  confusion. 

Katie  had  fainted,  and  Rita  was  endeav- 
oring to  bring  her  back  to  consciousness. 
Russell  stood  amazed  and  bewildered.  His 
cliicf  fear  now  was  one  of  being  implicated 
in  this  mad  outbreak  of  Rivers,  who  had 
been  his  companion  in  the  train  and  in  the 
castle,  and  might  be  taken  as  his  confidant. 

Talbot  stood  staring  at  Harry  in  wonder 
and  in  dark  perplexity.  Harry,  however, 
saw  licr  not;  but  thought  only  of  Katie, 
whom  ho  had  failed  to  save.  Struggles 
now  were  useless.  He  could  only  fall  back 
on  despair. 

Brooke  noticed  a  new  expression  on  Tal- 
bot's face,  and  marvelled,  but  thought  it 
merely  arose  from  natural  wonder  or  nat- 
ural sympathy  with  this  nnhappy  man, 
who  by  liis  madness  had  rushed  upon  his 
doom. 

Ashby  meanwhile  stood  calm.  He  saw 
and  understood  the  act  of  Harry  and  Ka- 
tie. He  wondered  somewhat  to  find  that 
their  acquaintance  had  gone  so  far.    He 


knew  that  both  had  been  false  to  him,  but 
had  no  idea  that  cither  had  grown  to  fed 
such  uassionate  love  for  the  other.  Ami 
there  came  over  him  a  passing  feeling  of 
Jealous  anger,  together  with  a  natural  in- 
dignation at  the  liaseness  of  these  two — tin 
one  his  love,  the  other  his  friend — who  had 
both  betrayed  him.  tSo  he  looked  with 
cold  complacency  upon  their  woes,  and 
tiiought  that  they  were  both  receiving  such 
severe  retribution  that  he  had  no  need  for 
further  revenge. 

Lopez,  having  seen  that  Harry's  hands 
were  firmly  bound,  turned  to  Katie,  who 
at  length  came  to  her  senses,  and  looked 
all  around  wilii  a  shudder.  He  was  anx- 
ious to  soothe  her,  so  as  to  finish  the  cere- 
mony. 

"Be  calm,"  he  said,  in  a  low  whisper, 
"  f(jr  /tin  sake.  He  may  even  yet  be  savetl 
— I  swear  it.  If  you  perform  your  inomisu 
I  will  forgive  him.  As  you  value  your  life, 
control  yourself.  If  these  men  understand 
how  it  is,  they  will  kill  him  on  the  spot." 

At  these  words  Katie  shuddered  the 
more,  and  with  a  violent  elVort  attained  to 
something  like  calmness.  She  then  stood 
up,  more  tremulous  and  weak  than  ever, 
and  stood  thus,  leaning  upon  Rita,  without 
daring  to  encounter  Harry's  look. 

"  The  ceremony  shall  go  on,"  said  Lopez, 
aloud.  "This  fool's- play  shall  not  stop 
it." 

"  Keep  calm,"  he  whispered  to  Katie ; 
"  his  life  now  depends  on  you  aUogetlier.'" 

Harry  still  stood  there,  with  soldiers 
around  him,  liis  hands  bound,  his  face 
bloodless,  liut  w  ith  the  eyes  of  a  madman. 

"  Senor,"  said  Lopez,  coolly,  "  I  liad  no 
idea  that  you  were  a  lunatic.  You  must 
submit  to  temporary  restraint." 

Harry  made  no  reply.  He  looked  all 
around,  as  though  trying  to  see  if  there 
might  1)0  any  signs  of  sympathy  in  tlio 
faces  of  the  others,  as  chough  seeking  in 
his  despair  for  some  faint  ray  of  hope,  lie 
saw  the  cold  sneer  of  Ashby ;  he  saw  the 
fierce  frown  of  Lopez;  he  saw  tlie  trem- 
bling figure  of  Russell ;  he  saw  the  anx- 
ious face  of  Brooke ;  and  then,  last  of  all, 
he  saw — Talbot ! 

This  was  the  first  time  that  lie  had  got  ;i 
sight  of  her  face.  Tn  that  instant,  in  spito 
of  her  disguise,  there  came  in  one  flash  tlie 
recognition  of  the  whole  truth.  He  saw 
that  she  had  been  lost — had  been  captured 
— had  put  on  this  disguise.  At  this  dis- 
covery there  followed  within  him  nothiii;: 


■' IIAIIIIY,  WITH    HIS    HANDS   TIKI)    IIKIIIND   UIM.  ItOSK    IIP,  AND    l.OOKKI)    AM.    AlKlfNI)    IN    IiKSI'AIH." 


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A  CASTLE  IN  8PAIX. 


153 


less  than  n  complete  paralysis  of  thought 
and  feeling.  In  the  shock  of  his  suildcn 
amazement  he  could  only  ejaculate  in  half- 
audible  tones  the  one  word — '•  Sydney  !'' 

Lopez  heard  this,  but  did  not  understand 
it.  He  wondered  why  Harry  should  ex- 
hibit sucii  emotion  at  tlie  sight  of  the 
priest,  but  hastily  concluded  that  it  was 
some  more  of  his  wild  and  insane  excite- 
ment over  tills  marriage  ceremony. 

Brooke  heard  it,  and  stared  in  bewilder- 
ment first  at  one  and  then  at  the  other. 

Talbot  stood  as  before.  She  moved  not, 
she  spoke  not,  she  was  stolid  and  stiff,  like 
a  statue  of  ice ;  but  there  was  in  her  face 
a  new  horror — it  was  the  face  of  one  who 
sees  ii  ghost. 

To  hnth  of  these  it  was  a  terrible  mo- 
ment. For  Talbot  saw  Harry,  and  Harry 
saw  Talbot,  and  each  recognized  the  other 
fidly,  though  neither  ventured  to  address 
the  other.  Tliis,  then,  was  tiie  meeting  of 
those  two  wiio  had  once  lovod  and  ex- 
changed vows;  who  had  suffered  and  re- 
joiced together;  who  had  parted  in  sor- 
row, and  looked  forward  to  a  reunion  with 
joy;  who  but  a  short  time  since  had  de- 
sired notliing  so  much  as  the  sigiit  of  each 
other;  this  was  their  meeting  and  thus  it 
took  place,  at  the  very  climax  of  that  new 
and  more  passionate  love  which  had  been 
conceived  by  each  for  another! 

Had  Harry  only  recognized  her  a  few 
minutes  before,  the  sight  would  have  ef- 
fectually chilled  his  hot  blood  and  saved 
him  from  his  mad  assault  or  Lopez.  He 
was  calm  enough  now,  however,  and  this 
was  quite  sufficient  for  the  latter. 

"Senor,"  said  he,  "you  deserve  to  be 
shot  on  the  spot  without  mercy,  but  out  of 
regard  for  this  lady  and  at  her  solicitation 
I  spare  you.  And  now,  senor  priest,  let  the 
ceremony  begin,  for  tiiis  lady  seems  feeble." 

Lopez  waited,  expecting  Brooke  to  trans- 
late this  to  Talbot. 

Brooke  hesitated. 

Lopez,  in  surprise,  repeated  his  words. 
"  Why  do  you  not  interpret  ?"  he  added. 

It  was  the  crisis  of  Talbot's  fate.  IIow 
could  Brooke  decide?  Why  should  he 
interpret  at  all  ?  Sliould  he  do  tliis  ?  No ; 
better  draw  upon  himself  the  wrath  of  Lo- 
pez, And  yet  what  could  he  accomplish 
by  a  refusal  to  interpret  ?  These  other  pris- 
oners could  act.  They  understood  Spanish 
a.,  well  as  English,  Such  were  the  questions 
in  Brooke's  mind,  and  he  could  not  decide. 

Suddenly  the  decision  on  this  matter 


was  taken  away  altogetiier,  and  adopted 
by  Talbot  herself.  She  would  not  let  the 
vengeful  wrath  of  Lopez  fall  on  Brooke  or 
on  any  other  than  herself.  She  understood 
his  feelings  fully,  and  tlierefcre,  to  put  an 
end  to  all  suspense,  siie  took  the  matter  in 
her  own  hands. 

She  therefore  came  close  up  to  Lopez, 
and  tixed  her  large,  dark,  solemn  eyes 
sternly  yet  mournfully  upon  his.  Her  face 
bore  witness  to  a  resolution  that  was  im- 
mutable. Lopez  could  read  its  expression 
and  sec  all  that  was  in  h  jr  mind. 

She  pointed  to  Katie,  then  to  herself, 
and  then  to  him.  Then  looking  fixedly  at 
him,  she  shook  her  head  violently  and  with 
emphasis,  and  then  hurled  the  breviary 
upon  the  floor.  The  act  and  the  expres- 
sion were  more  eloipient  than  words,  Lo- 
pez understood  all  perfectly.  His  eyes 
flahhed  with  just  indignation,  and  a  savage 
smile  came  over  his  face. 

"  Oho,  seiior  priest,"  said  he ;  '"  so  you 
think  that  because  I  have  once  or  twice 
restrained  my  angei,  that  I  can  be  set  at 
defiance  with  impunity !  I'm  tired  of  being 
magnanimous;  so  let  me  tell  you  that  how- 
ever merciful  I  have  been  before,  I  will 
show  none  now.  You  must  go  on,  I  will 
allow  of  no  hesitation.  Tell  him  that," 
he  added,  to  Brooke. 

"  He  says,"  said  Brooke, "  that  you  must 
obey." 

Talbot  scarcely  heard  this. 

She  never  moved  her  eyes  from  Lopez; 
she  simply  shook  her  head,  with  her  im- 
mutable resolve  as  visible  as  ever.  Lopez 
could  see  that  the  priest,  for  sjme  motive 
or  other,  was  bent  on  self-sacrifice. 

He  took  out  his  watch.  "  I'll  allow  five 
minutes,"  said  he,  "for  decision.  If  at  the 
end  of  that  time  you  refuse,  I  will  blow  out 
your  brains  with  my  own  hand.  Tell  him 
that." 

"  Senor  captain,"  said  Brooke,  impetu- 
ously, "  let  me  say  one  word." 

"  Translate  for  me,  I  say  1" 

"  One  word  first." 

"Not  one — obey  mc!"  cried  Lopez,  in 
fury. 

"  Seiior  captain,"  said  Brooke,  not  heed- 
ing him,  "  this  is  a  priest.  It  is  a  matter 
of  conscience." 

"  Silence  1"  roared  Lopez.  "Tell  him 
what  I  said.     His  time  will  soon  be  up !" 

Brooke  turned  to  Talbot, 

"He'll  only  give  you  five  minutes,  Tal- 
bot," said  he.     "I'll  try  to  dissuade  him." 


Tl' 


154 


A  CASTLE  IN  SPMN. 


"  No  use,  Brooke,"  said  Talbot,  mourn- 
fullj'.     "  I  came  prepared  for  this." 

Brooke  turned  again  to  Lopez. 

"  Tiie  priest  says  that  his  vows  forbid 
him  to  bhisplieme  tlie  lioly  sacrament  of 
marriage  in  this  way.  He  says  he  will  die 
rather  than  risk  his  soul  by  an  act  of  sac- 
rilege." 

"A  curse  on  his  soul  1"  cried  Lopez. 
"  What  do  I  care  !" 

"Look  out  for  your  own  soul!"  cried 
Brooke. 

"Aha I  arc  you  too  a  priest?  Beware, 
sir  !  your  life  is  already  in  peril." 

At  this  moment  Ilarry  cried  out  in  a 
loud  voice, 

"  Stop,  Captain  Lopez — stop,  for  God's 
sake!  This  is  a  mistake — a  terrible  mis- 
take." 

Lopez  turned  round  in  a  fury. 

"Gag  that  devil !"  he  roared. 

In  a  moment  the  soldiers  had  seized 
Ilarry  and  bound  a  bandage  over  his 
mouth,  by  which  they  effectually  stojjped 
any  further  remarks. 

The  last  chance  yet  remained  whicli 
Brooke  might  seize  for  Talbot — it  was  to 
divulge  her  secret  and  tell  about  her  dis- 
guise. To  divulge  it  to  this  enraged  and 
furious  chieftain  might  ow  only  render 
him  ten  times  more  furious  ar.d  vengeful ; 
it  might  only  aggravate  the  doom  of  the 
prisoner;  but  the  risk  must  be  run. 

"  Stop  1"  (M'ied  Brooke.  "  Senor  captain, 
listen.     It's  a  mistake —    She  is — " 

"Silence,"  roared  Lopez,  "or  I'll  blow 
j-our  brains  out  I" 

"  Senor,  this  priest  is  not — " 

"  Seize  tliis  fellow !''  yelled  Lopez.  "  Bind 
him!     Gag  him !" 

Several  of  the  men  sprung  toward  Brooke, 
■who  struggled  madly,  shouting  at  the  same 
time  words  wliich  soon  were  drowned  in 
the  uproar  that  followed. 

Lopez  now  snatched  a  rifle  from  one  of 
his  men.  Katie  gave  a  loud  scream ;  Rus- 
sell fell  on  his  knees ;  Ashby  shuddered. 

Lopez  took  deadly  aim  at  Talbot. 

"  Your  time  is  up !"  he  said,  coolly. 

Talbot  stood  motionless,  with  a  face  of 
marble  and  an  attitude  perfectly  rigid; 
not  ft  nerve  quivered  as  fhe  looked  into 
the  muzzle  of  the  rifle,  but  licr  lips  moved 
as  if  she  were  murmuring  a  prayer. 


CHAPTER  LL 

IN    WHICH    AN     INTKKKUPTION     CCCfnS     IN    A    MAR- 
IIUUK   CEUEUONV. 

Talbot  stood;  the  rifle  was  levelled  at 
her;  Lopez  had  taken  deadly  aim;  his  fin- 
ger was  on  the  trigger;  she  felt  that  her 
last  hour  had  come,  and  that  naught  could 
avail  her  now  but  i)rayer. 

Brooke  was  strugglhig  like  a  madman. 
Two  of  the  soldiers  had  been  hurled  to  tl\c 
floor;  another  was  clinging  to  his  neck; 
a  fourth  was  savagely  trying  to  gouge  out 
his  eyes. 

Lopez  pulled  the  trigger.  The  report 
rang  through  the  hall. 

At  that  very  instant,  as  the  fire  and 
smoke  went  flashing  and  blazing  at  Tal- 
bot— or  rather,  the  very  instant  before — a 
figure  dashed  toward  her.  It  was  Brooke. 
By  one  supreme  and  convulsive  eft'ort  he 
had  torn  himself  away  from  his  assailants, 
and  with  one  great  bound  had  flung  him- 
self at  Talbot.  At  the  rush  which  he  made 
she  fell  backward,  and  the  ne.xt  instant 
Brooke  fell  upon  her.  Tatbot  then  strug- 
gled up  to  her  feet,  and  through  the  dense 
clouds  of  smoke  reached  down  to  raise  up 
Brooke.     lie  was  senseless. 

With  a  low  moan  like  the  cry  of  a  suft'cr- 
ing  animal,  Talbol  threw  herself  upon  the 
senseless  form.  From  his  foreliead  there 
trickled  sev(;ral  streams  of  blood  which  fell 
to  the  floor  in  a  pool.  She  pressed  her 
lips  again  and  again  to  the  wound,  and 
then  through  the  dense  smoke  she  rose 
and  looked  around,  confronting  Lopez 
with  the  blood  of  Brooke's  wounds  stain- 
ing all  her  face.  It  was  a  face  beautiful 
in  its  marble  whiteness  as  the  face  of  a 
statue  of  Athena;  yet  terrible  in  the  fixed 
and  stony  horror  of  its  eyes,  and  in  the 
blood-streaks  that  covered  it,  and  in  the 
incarnate  hate  of  its  expression — terrible  in 
al!  this  as  the  Gorgon  face  of  Medusa. 

Lopez  shrank  back :  his  vengeance  was 
satisfied,  his  fury  had  all  subsided,  and 
there  flashed  through  every  nerve  a  thrill 
of  horror.  It  was  then  to  him  as  though 
the  dead  —  the  priest  whom  he  had  just 
slain — had  sprung  up  by  an  immediate  res- 
urrection from  death  to  punish  him  for 
such  atrocious  sacrilege.  All  the  supersti- 
tion of  his  Spanish  nature  now  rolled  in 
one  wave  over  his  soul,  overwhelming  it 
with  panic  f  jar.  The  dead  !  the  dead  !  he 
thought — the  priest  with  the  angel  face- 
murdered  because  he  would  not  sin — it 


"she    HL'IiLKD    TllK    HKKVIARY    LPON    THK    yLOOK.' 


A  CASTLE  IN  SPAIN. 


155 


was  ho !  But  the  angel  face  was  now  tlie 
awlul  liead  of  a  haunting  and  av  iging 
(lemon. 

And  now  at  this  very  instant,  while  the 
smoke  was  still  hanging  in  dense  folds 
half-way  between  floor  and  ceiling ;  while 
Brooke  still  lay  in  his  blood;  wiule  Tal- 
bot still  glared  in  fury  upon  Lonez ;  at  this 
veiy  moment  there  arose  a  wild  cry — s>iu- 
den,  menacing,  irresistible— by  which  the 
whole  face  of  tlie  scene  was  changed. 

"  Viva  el  Key  !"' 

Such  was  the  cry  that  now  sounded  out 
in  the  midst  of  the  amazed  Republicans. 
There  was  a  rusli  and  a  trample.  Then 
followed  the  thunder  of  rilles,  and  through 
the  smoke  dusky  figures  were  visible,  rush- 
ing to  and  fro. 

Once  again,  once  more,  and  again,  and 
yet  again,  report  after  report  rang  out. 
All  tlio  room  was  dense  with  smoke,  and 
in  that  thick  darkness  notiiing  was  visi- 
ble ;  but  voices  yelled  in  fear,  and  other 
voices  .shouted  in  triumpli ;  wliile  far  above 
all  sounded  the  war-cry,  "Viva  el  Keyl" 
'•  Down  with  the  reljels !"'     "  No  quarter !'' 

Shrieks  arose  in  the  hall  without.  Then 
cries  followed  —  "Treason!  treason!  We 
are  betrayed!  Fly!  fly!*'  These  words 
were  screamed  in  the  slirill  tones  of  a 
woman.  Tlie  terror  of  that  cry  communi- 
cated itself  to  all.  A  universal  trample 
and  a  rush  succeeded,  and  the  whole  band 
of  Ilcpublicans,  in  mad  [)anic,  fled  away. 

Out  tiiey  went,  that  panic-stricken  band, 
into  the  court-yard,  and  out  tlirough  the 
gates,  and  afar  away  through  the  open 
country,  each  one  seeking  his  own  safety, 
and  hearing  in  his  disordered  fancy  the 
sound  behind  him  of  hot  pursuit.  There 
was  no  pursuit — no  enemy  followed  close 
behind;  but  in  that  crowd  of  panic-strick- 
cu  fugitives  eai  h  heard  the  swift  rush  and 
the  cpiick  trampling  footfalls  of  u'l  the 
rest;  and  as  none  dared  to  look  back,  so 
all  continued  to  run ;  and  so  they  ran,  and 
ran,  and  ran,  and  they  have  probal)ly  been 
keeping  it  up  ever  since,  unless,  indeed, 
they  thought  better  of  it,  and  concluded  to 
stop  and  rest. 

The  reason  why  there  was  no  pursuit  is 
a  very  simple  one.  Tlie  fact  is,  the  attack- 
ing force  amounted  to  no  more  than  si.x, 
tiicse  six  being  no  others  than  our  friends 
the  imprisoned  Carlists,  headed  by  the  in- 
trepid, tlie  ardent,  the  devoted,  the  ])lucky 
little  Spanish  maid  Dolores.  She  had  con- 
trived to  pick  up  some  stray  arms  and  am- 


munition with  '  licli  she  had  supplietl  her 
Carlist  friends,  ind,  waiting  for  some  op- 
portune moment,  had  made  a  sudden  rush, 
like  Gideon  upon  the  Midianites,  with  tiic 
startling  results  above  described. 

But  let  us  on  with  our  story. 

The  snu-ke  rolled  away,  and  there  was 
disclosed  a  new  scene. 

Two  or  three  wounded  RLpublicans  lay 
writiiing  on  the  floor.  Lopez  lay  near, 
bound  tight,  and  surroundc;d  by  the  six 
(/"arlists,  wlio,  I  am  sorry  to  say,  insulted 
their  captive  by  fierce  tlireats  and  unnec- 
essary taunts.  At  all  this  Lopez  seemed 
unmoved,  thougii  the  expression  of  hid 
face  was  by  no  means  a  happy  one. 

It  is  ft  very  annoying  thing,  my  reader, 
when  you  arc  bringing  in  ytnv  long  suit, 
and  the  game  apjjcars  to  be  all  your  own, 
to  have  it  all  changed  by  the  inteiiiosition 
of  a  miserable  trump,  on  the  existence  of 
which  you  had  not  reckoned;  and  tiien  to 
leave  the  role  of  Conquering  Hero,  and 
change  the  part  of  victor  for  that  of  van- 
(luished,  requires  so  many  high  moral  qual- 
ities that  i'cw  can  be  reasonaljjy  expected  to 
exhlljitthem  in  such  a  wicked  world  as  this. 

And  here  there  is  an  excellent  oi)por- 
tunity  to  pause  and  moralize;  but,  on  the 
whole,  perhaps  it  is  better  to  proceed. 

Very  well,  then. 

There  was  Dolores,  and  she  was  clinging 
to  Aslil)y  in  a  perfect  al)andon  of  joy.  She 
liad  found  him!  that  was  bliss  indeed. 
She  had  saved  liim!  that  Mas  joy  almost 
too  great  for  endurance.  The  impetuous 
and  ardent  nature  of  Dolores,  which  made 
her  so  bruve,  made  her  also  the  slave  of  lier 
changing  moods ;  and  so  it  was  that  the 
heroine  who  had  but  lately  led  that  wild 
charge  on  to  victory  now  sobbed  and  wept 
convulsively  in  Ashby's  arms.  As  lor  Asii- 
by,  he  no  longer  seemed  made  of  stone, 
lie  forgot  all  else  cxcejit  the  one  fact  that 
Dolores  had  come  back  to  him.  Lopez 
might  have  perceived,  if  he  had  leisure  for 
such  observations,  that  Ashby's  Engli.sh 
phlegm  formed  Init  a  part  of  his  character; 
and  the  sight  of  that  young  man's  rai)ture 
over  Dolores  might  have  made  him  think 
the  English  a  fickle  and  volatile  race. 

The  scene  disclosed  Harry  and  Katie  also 
in  an  equally  tender  situation ;  for  Harry's 
Iwnds  had  been  cut,  and  he  had  flown  at 
once  to  Katie's  side.  But  the  prostration 
consequent  upon  all  this  excitement  was 
so  great  that  he  found  it  necessary  to  carry 
her  to  the  open  air. 


156 


A  CASTLE  IN  SPAIN. 


Dolores  now  roused  herself. 
•    "  Come,''  said  slie,  "  let  us  close  the  gates 
before  tliey  rally." 

With  these  words  she  hurried  out,  fol- 
lowed by  Ashby.  Then  the  Carlists  fol- 
lowed. 

Kussell  still  remained.  As  yet  he  could 
scarcely  believe  in  his  good-fortune.  Over 
and  over  again  had  he  felt  himself  care- 
fully all  over  to  assure  liimself  that  no  bul- 
let had  penetrated  any  part  of  his  precious 
skin,  and  gradually  tlie  sweet  conviction 
of  his  soundness  pervaded  his  inner  man. 
Then  tliere  was  another  joyful  discovery, 
which  was  that  Kita  had  disapiieared.  In 
tlie  wild  tumult  and  dense  smoke  he  had 
lost  sight  of  her.  What  had  become  of 
her  he  could  not  imagine.  Whether  she 
had  fled  in  the  wild  panic,  or  had  remain- 
ed and  concealed  iierself,  he  could  not  say. 
His  knowledge  of  lier  character  made  him 
dread  the  worst,  and  he  felt  sure  tliat  slie 
was  not  very  far  away.  So  he  thougjit 
that  the  safest  ])Iacc  for  himself  would  be 
as  near  as  possible  to  those  Carlists  wliom 
Kita  had  Ijetrayed,  and  wiiom  she  now 
justly  dreaded  more  than  anytliing  else. 
Bo  he  hurried  out  after  the  nol)le  six. 

On  tlie  floor  Brooke  lay,  and  tlicre  Tal- 
bot was  seated,  holding  his  head  on  her 
lap.  He  was  senseless,  yet  she  could  feel 
that  his  heart  was  beating,  and  in  tiiat  pul- 
sation she  found  her  hope.  His  wounds 
did  not  seem  deep,  for  she  had  felt  with 
tender  fingers  along  tlie  place  wjiere  the 
blood  was  flowing,  witiiout  detecting  any- 
thing that  seemed  formidable.  Still,  tlie 
siglit  of  his  prostrate  and  bleeding  form, 
as  he  lay  senseless  in  her  arms,  after  he 
had  flung  his  life  away  for  her  sake,  was 
one  that  moved  her  so  profoundly  that  all 
the  world  for  her  was  now  at  that  moment 
centred  in  tliat  prostrate  figure  with  the 
poor,  piteous.  l)leeding  head.  With  tender 
hands  she  wiped  away  the  blood  that  still 
oozed  from  the  wou'id  and  trickled  down 
his  face;  more  tenderly  still  she  bowed 
down  low  over  that  unconscious  head  and 
kissed  the  dear  wounds  tliat  had  Ijccn  re- 
ceived for  her,  and  vliiis  hung  over  him  in 
a  rapture  of  love  and  an  agony  of  despair. 

Lopez  saw  this  and  wondered,  and  look- 
ed on  in  still  increasing  wonder,  till  this 
was  all  that  he  saw,  and  all  else  was  for- 
gotten in  a  sudden  great  light  that  flashed 
into  his  mind. 

He  saw  it  all.  "  So  this,"  he  thought, 
"  was  the  reason  why  these  two  held  such 


self-sacrificing  nfl'ection;  this  wus  the  rea- 
son why  one  would  persist  in  risking  every- 
thing for  the  other.  The  priest  would  not 
leave  tlie  spy  when  freedom  was  oft'ered ; 
the  priest  had  stood  before  the  spy,  inter- 
posing between  him  and  the  bullets;  the 
spy  had  flung  himself  into  the  jaws  of 
death  to  save  the  priest.  Priest !  Ah.  thou 
of  the  angel  face !  thou,  so  calm  in  the 
presence  of  death  for  thy  beloved  I  thou ! 
no  angel,  no  demon,  but  a  woman,  with  a 
woman's  heart  of  hearts,  daring  all  things 
for  tliy  love !" 

A  mighty  revolution  took  place  in  the 
breast  of  Lopez.  Bound  as  lie  was,  he 
struggled  to  liis  feet  and  then  dropped  on 
his  knees  before  Talbot,  He  then  bent 
down  and  examined  Brooke  very  carefully. 
Then  he  looked  up,  nodded,  and  smiled. 
Then  he  kissed  Talbot's  hand.  Then  he 
again  smiled  as  if  to  encourage  her, 

Talbo*  caught  at  the  hint  and  the  hope 
tiiat  was  thus  held  out,  Lopez  was  oft'er- 
ing  his  assistance.  She  accepted  it.  She 
determined  to  loose  his  bonds.  True,  he 
might  fly  on  the  instant,  and  bring  back 
all  his  men;  but  the  preservation  of  Brooke 
was  too  important  a  thing  to  admit  of  a 
moment's  hesitation.  Besides,  had  she  not 
already  discovered  that  this  Spaniard  had 
a  heart  full  of  noble  and  tender  emotions? 
that  he  was  at  once  heroic  and  compassion- 
ate, and  one  on  whose  honor  she  might 
rely  to  the  uttermost  ? 

With  a  small  penknife  she  quickly  cut 
his  bonds, 

Lopez  was  free. 

But  Lopez  remained.  He  bent  over 
Brooke.  He  raised  him  up  to  a  more  com- 
fortable position,  and  examhied  him  in  a 
way  which  showed  both  skill  and  exjjeri- 
cnce. 

Then  he  suddenly  rose  and  left  the 
room.  Talbot  heard  his  footsteps  outside. 
Was  he  escaping  ?  she  asked  herself,  and 
her  answer  was.  No. 

She  was  right.  In  a  few  moments  Lo- 
pez came  back  with  some  cold  water.  He 
bathed  Brooke's  head,  loosened  his  neck- 
cloth, and  rubbed  his  hands  as  skilfully  as 
a  doctor  and  as  tenderly  .is  a  nurse. 

At  length  Brooke  drew  a  long  breath, 
thnn  opened  his  eyes,  and  looked  around 
with  a  bewildered  air.  Then  ho  sat  up 
and  stared.  He  saw  Lopez,  no  longer  stern 
and  hostile,  but  surveying.  Lim  with  kindly 
anxiety.  He  saw  Talbot,  her  face  all  stain- 
ed with  blood,  but  her  eyes  fixed  on  him, 


A  CASTLE  IN  SPAIN. 


157 


cflowing  with  love  unutterable  and  ratliaut 
with  joy. 

"  Oh,  Brooke,"  said  she,  "  tell  him  to  fly  ! 
He  is  free — tell  him." 

Not  understanding  any  of  the  circum- 
stances around  him,  Brooke  obeyed  Tal- 
l)ot  meclianicaiiy,  and  translated  her  word:* 
simply  as  she  had  spoken  them. 

"  Fly !"  said  he ;  "  you  are  free." 

A  flush  of  joy  passed  over  tlie  face  of 
Lopez. 

"  Nol)lcst  of  ladies  I"  said  he,  looking 
reverentially  at  Talbot,  "I  take  my  life  fnmi 
you,  and  will  never  forget  you  till  my  dy- 
ing da}'.     Farewell !  farewell !" 

Ami  with  these  words  he  Avas  gone. 


CHAPTER  LH. 

IN   WHICH   TALDOT  TAKES   OFF   HER  DISGUUE. 

Bhooke  and  Talbot  were  now  alone;  for, 
though  there  were  one  or  two  wounded  in 
the  room,  yet  these  were  too  much  taken 
up  with  their  own  pains  to  think  of  any- 
thing else. 

Brooke's  wound,  after  all,  turned  out  to 
be  but  slight.  The  bullet  had  grazed  his 
skull,  making  a  furrow  through  the  scalp 
of  no  greater  depth  than  the  skin,  and  car- 
rying away  a  pathway  of  hair.  The  sud- 
den and  sharp  force  of  such  a  blow  had 
been  sufficient  to  fell  him  to  the  floor  and 
leave  him  senseless;  but,  upon  reviving,  it 
did  not  take  a  very  long  time  for  him  to 
regain  his  strength  and  the  full  use  of  his 
faculties.  The  traces  of  the  blow  were 
soon  efl'aced,  and  Brooke  at  last  showed 
himself  to  be  very  little  the  worse  for  his 
adventure.  His  face  was  marked  here  and 
there  by  spots  from  the  powder;  but  the 
blood -stains  were  quickly  washed  away, 
and  his  head  was  bound  up  in  a  narrow 
bandage  made  of  Talbot's  handkerchief. 
Ilis  hat,  which  had  fallen  oif  during  his 
struggles  with  the  soldiers,  was  now  recov- 
ered, and  as  it  was  of  sofl  stuft'  he  was  able 
to  wear  it. 

"  With  this,"  said  he,  "  Brooke  is  himself 
again." 

Talbot  now  proceeded  to  wash  the  blood- 
stains from  her  own  face. 

"That  looks  better,"  said  Brooke. 
"Streaks  of  blood  did  not  improve  your 
personal  ai)pearance." 

He  tried  to  speak  in  his  usual  careless 
tone,  but  his  voice  was  tremulous  and  agi- 
tated. -■  ■         ,-.*.. 


"Your  blood,  Brooke,"  said  Talbot,  in  a 
faltering  voice — "  your  blood— poured  out 
— for  me  I" 

Tiiere  was  a  solemn  silence  after  this. 
Then  Brooke  leaned  back  and  gave  a 
iieavy  sigh. 

"I  feel  a  little  shaky  still,"  said  he. 

"Let  me  support  you,"  said  Talbot,  with 
feverish  eagerness.  "You  must  be  weak 
still  —  very  weak.  You  must  not  e.\ert 
yourself  too  much." 

Slie  held  out  her  arms  as  though  to 
raise  him  up;  but  Brooke  ilrew  back. 

"No,  no,"  he  murmured, in  a  faint  voice; 
"it's  no  matter — no  matter  at  all." 

Talbot  looked  down  and  said  nothing. 

"I  don't  know  what  happened,"  said 
Brooke.  "Where  is  everybody ?  And  Lo- 
pez— why  did  you  tell  him  he  was  free? 
Was  he  a  prisoner  ?  And  how  ?  Tell  mc 
all  about  it." 

Upon  this  Talbot  narrated  as  briefly  as 
possible  the  circumstances  of  the  recent 
struggle. 

"  Where  is  everybody  now  ?"  asked 
Brooke. 

"I  don't  know.  It  is  enough  for  me 
that  you  are  here,  and  alive  and  safe." 

"And  so  you  let  Lopez  go,  after  all?" 
asked  Brooke,  after  another  pause. 

"Yes," said  TalI)ot;  "he  did  what  I  Wj... 
praying  for— he  brought  you  back  to  lifr 
Was  I  wrong  ?" 

"  Wrong  or  right,"  said  Brooke,  "  I  ap- 
prove of  it.  Everything  that  you  do  is 
right  in  my  eyes." 

Talbot  now  began  to  take  off'  the  priest's 
dress. 

"What  are  you  doing?"  asked  Brooke, 
hastily,  starting  up  to  his  feet  with  a  quick- 
ness which  showed  that,  as  he  had  said, 
he  was  quite  himself  again. 

"  I  have  no  further  use  for  this  dress 
now,"  said  she.     "  I  will  take  it  otf." 

"Don't,"  said  Brooke,  imploringly. 
"  Wear  it  still — at  least  as  long  as  you  are 
with  me ;  for  I  shall  think  of  yon,  Talbot, 
in  that  dress  always,  until  my  dying  day — 
you  in  that  dress  —  in  that  priest's  dress, 
with  the  face  of  an  angel  of  heaven.  It 
was  thus  that  you  looked  as  you  came  be- 
tween me  and  the  levelled  guns  of  the 
soldiers  at  the  old  mill,  Talbot,  I  should 
now  be  a  dead  man  but  for  you." 

Talbot  looked  at  him  earnestly,  and  a 
sad  smile  stole  over  her  face. 

"  Brooke,"  said  she,  "  I  should  now  be  a 
dead  girl  but  for  you." 


iGd 


A  CASTLE  IN  SPAIN. 


Tlicy  both  Htood  I'licc  to  face.  Urooke's 
meiiioiy  wiis  now  I'ully  restoreil,  and  in  liis 
mind  tlicfc!  was  tliu  dear  and  nnciuudctl 
ii'coliuction  of  tliat  scene  wliicii  hail  called 
i'orlli  liis  act  ofaeir-surrender.  As  iio  look- 
ed at  Talbot,  hv,  saw  lier  eyes  fastened  on 
liis  with  au  c.xinessiou  sucii  as  he  had  Been 
there  Ijefore  more  tliau  once — a  look  which 
told  him  of  all  that  was  in  her  heart.  He 
liekl  ont  his  handd.  She  held  ont  hers  to 
meet  them,  and  he  sei/.ed  them  in  a  con- 
vulsive fi'rasj).  Thus  they  stood,  lioldinj,' 
one  another's  hanils,  anil  looking  into  one 
another's  eyes  and  hearts. 

Talbot's  eyes  were  moist  witli  tears  that 
tremlileil  in  them,  and  her  lips  ([iiivered 
as  thi)Ui,di  she  was  about  to  speak.  But 
Brooke  said  not  one  word. 

At  last  Tall)ot  burst  forth. 

"Brooke,"  said  s'le,  imi)etuous]y,  "yon 
may  keep  silent,  if  you  choose,  but  I  will 
not,  for  1  cannot.  I  will  apeak,  Brooke. 
Sly  life  is  yours,  for  you  have  saved  it,  and 
henceforth  all  old  ties  belonging  to  my 
old  life  are  broken.  From  this  time  I  lling 
all  the  past  away  forever,  and  begin  life 
anew." 

Brofike  looked  at  her  witli  unutterable 
agitation. 

"  Oil,  Talbot, Talbot,  what  do  you  mean  ?" 

Talbot  drew  nearer  and  spoke  further. 
Her  eyes  were  fixed  on  liis  with  a  deeper 
and  more  earnest  gaze;  her  voice  was  low, 
and  slow,  and  tremulous;  and  at  every 
word  tiiere  went  a  tiirill  through  all  the 
being  of  the  man  to  whom  she  spoke. 
And  this  man  to  v.hom  she  spoke  was  one 
whose  idol  she  had  already  grown  to  be; 
whose  lieart  her  presence  tilled  with  silent 
delight;  through  whom  her  glance  (lashed 
witii  the  force  of  lightning;  through  whose 
frame  her  lightest  touch  could  send  a  tre- 
mor of  ecstasy.  This  man  she  now  held, 
her  hands  clasped  in  his,  her  eyes  tixcd  on 
his,  and  her  lips  uttering  words  such  as  he 
had  never  heard  before. 

"  Oh,  Brooke,"  said  Talbot,  "  I  will  speak ! 
Brooke  —  noble,  tender  heart!  —  you  love 
me,  and  with  all  the  strength  of  your  soul. 
Honor  forbids  you  to  say  this  in  words,  but 
you  say  it  in  every  look,  and  it  is  spoken 
in  every  tone  of  your  voice,  and  I  feel  it  in 
every  touch  of  your  hands.  Can  I  not  read 
it  in  your  eyes,  Brooke,  every  time  that  yon 
look  at  me?  Most  of  all,  can  I  not  see  how 
you  love  me  when  you  lling  your  life  away 
for  me  ?  But  what  is  that  last  act  of 
yours  ?    It  is  nothing  more  than  the  sequel 


of  long  acts  of  self-bacridce  for  uie !  Brooke, 
I  know  that  you  love  nie,  and  that  you  love 
me  better  than  all  tiie  world,  and  better 
than  life  itself.  Keep  your  words  to  your- 
.self,  if  you  choose.  Lock  your  lips  tight. 
Save  your  plighted  word,  if  you  can;  but, 
after  all,  your  heart  is  mine.  I  know  that 
you  love  me,  and  mo  only,  and,  Brooke — 
oh,  Brooke  I  you  know  —  well — well  you 
know  how  dearly  I — love — you!'' 

It  was  lii.s  Talbot  who  said  this,  and  she 
said  it  to  him,  and  she  said  it  at  tlus  very 
time  when  he  was  all  (piiveriiig  under  the 
iiitluence  of  his  own  mighty  love,  and  the 
magnetism  of  her  look  and  of  her  tou(^li. 
His  head  fell  bowed  down  nearer  to  her  as 
she  spoke;  he  trembled  from  head  to  foot. 
He  tore  away  his  hands  from  her  grasp, 
Hung  his  arms  around  her.  and  strained  her 
again  and  again  to  his  i)ieast  in  a  <'onvul- 
sive  energy  of  ])assion.  His  voice  was  ail 
broken,  and  was  scarce  audible  as  in  agi- 
tated tones  he  murmured  in  her  car, 

"Talbot!  Talbot,  darling!  I  love  you— 
I  adore  you !  I  never  knew  what  love  was, 
till  I  met  you!'' 

M«  >K  ^  H<  s)<  >!t 

These  asterisks  are  intended  to  represent 
a  long  silence  which  succeeded  the  remarks 
above  reported.  The  jjolicy  of  silence  was 
for  them  quite  the  most  sensible  under  the 
circumstances.  Until  this  moment  they 
had  botii  clung  to  those  engagements  to 
others  which  neither  had  forgotten,  and 
which  they  had  confided  to  each  other. 
Each  knew  the  other's  secret.  But  now 
they  both  Hung  up  those  eufageinents  and 
confessed  their  love  to  one  another.  And 
how  such  higii-toned  people  could  justify 
such  conduct  to  their  consciences  is  a  jirob- 
lem  that  I,  for  my  part,  don't  pretend  to 
be  able  to  solve. 

At  length  they  began  to  be  aware  of  the 
existence  of  the  outsiile  world. 

"These  poor  wounded,"  said  Talbot, 
"  require  some  attention.  Let  us  go  out. 
Let  us  get  some  water  and  try  to  make  it 
easier  for  them." 

Talbot  now  j)rocceded  to  take  ofl'  the 
priest's  dress,  in  which  task  she  had  been 
interrupted  by  Brooke.  He  again  tried  to 
dissuade  her,  but  in  vain. 

"  No,"  said  she ;  "  it  only  gets  me  into 
trouble.  If  I  am  to  be  taken  prisoner 
again  it  shall  be  in  my  true  character. 
This  disguise  may  be  useful  to  you." 

And  with  these  words  Talbot  removed 
the  dress,  and  stood  forth  in  her  own  prop- 


A  CASTLE  IN  Sl'AlN. 


15'J 


er  costume  —  that  of  nn  EngliHli  lady,  as 
she  WHS  wlieu  IJrookc  first  met  licr. 

And  now  the  two  went  out  to  procure 
water  for  tlic  wounded  prisoners. 


CIIAPTEU  LIII. 

WHICH  TKLLS  ov  A  hki'nion  ok  veiiy  ukau  old 

FitlKNDit, 

Whim:  Hro()l<o  and  Talbot  were  thus 
eonvcrsin;,',  others  were  indulging  in  the 
same  jjursuit,  and  none  to  better  purpose 
tlian  Harry  and  Katie. 

No  onu  ean  say  that  Katie  had  not  been 
very  severely  tried,  and  had  not  passed 
througli  a  most  distressing  ordeal.  Ajjart 
IVom  the  long  trial  of  mind  which  had  pre- 
ceded that  eventful  morning,  the  circum- 
stances of  the  tinal  scene  were  enough  to 
shake  up  stronger  nerves  than  those  of 
Katie.  80  completely  was  she  prostratetl, 
that  under  any  other  circumstances  noth- 
ing could  have  saved  her  from  a  .it  of 
sickness,  which  might  possiljly  have  result- 
ed in  brain -fever  antl  terminated  fatally, 
for  all  I  know;  but  fortunately,  under  these 
actually  existing  circumstances,  she  was 
spared  all  this.  The  presence  of  Harry 
made  all  the  dilTerence  in  the  world. 

After  retiring  from  the  scene  of  ccniflict, 
they  ascended  into  that  upper  chamber  in 
which  Kat'e  had  last  been  imprisoned,  and 
here  they  seated  themselves  so  tiiat  Katie 
might  rest,  supported  by  Harry's  encircling 
arms,  and  at  the  same  time  be  refreshed  by 
the  fresh  air.  Katie  now  began  to  rally 
with  the  rapidity  which  is  characteristic 
of  buoyant  natures,  and  soon  began  to 
show  something  of  her  usual  lightness  of 
heart.  Harry,  however,  though  most  ten- 
der and  affectionate,  seemed  changed,  and 
the  change  was  soon  detected  by  Katie's 
(juick  perception. 

"What  is  the  matter  with  you?"  she 
asked.    "You  don't  seem  glad  at  all." 

"Oh  yes,"  said  Harry,  "I'm  very  glad 
indeed." 

He  spoke  in  a  doleful  tone  of  voice, 
which  w;is  by  no  means  in  accord  with  his 
words. 

"Your  voice  don't  sound  very  glad," 
said  Katie,  reproachfully,  "  and  you  look 
troubled.  You  arc  so  preoccupied  that 
you  can't  say  anything.  But  I  suppose 
you  feel  the  effects  of  that  awful  scene — 
and  oh,  how  awful  it  was !" 
11 


Katie  relapsed  into  silence,  and  Harry  felt 
somewhat  relieved;  for  in  truth  he  was  i)re- 
occiipied,  and  had  much  on  his  mind. 

It  was  the  thougiit  of  Talliot  that  tilled 
his  nund.  It  was  she  whom  lie  had  seen 
in  that  priest's  ilisguise.  It  was  his  affi- 
anced briile  whom  he  had  lost,  and  now  at 
last  found  !  Found  !  Great  Heaven  !  and 
iiere!  and  thus!  Here — when  lie  was  here 
ready  to  die  for  Katie;  when  he  was  now 
with  Katie,  who  had  turned  to  him  from 
all  the  world ! 

Was  he  a  man  of  iionor  {  Honor !  The 
name  now  seemed  a  mockery.  Wiiicli  way 
wouUl  honor  impel  him  i  To  give  ip  Ka- 
tie? What  I  when  she  had  given  up  all 
for  him?  Whatl  when  he  had  fought  a 
mortal  ((uarrel  with  Ashby  for  her  ^  Hon- 
or! Was  not  honor  due  to  Ashley?  and 
had  he  not  been  a  traitor  to  his  friend? 

There  was  this  fight  yet  before  him,  and 
it  would  be  soon;  for  Ashby  was  free.  A 
fight  for  Katie !  And  Tall)ot  was  here ! 
Slic  would  know  all.  And  she — she  who 
had  come  all  the  way  from  England,  who 
had  found  him  not,  who  had  imagined 
herself  deserted  —  she  would  learn  of  his 
perfidy.     The  thought  was  horrible. 

Upon  such  agonizing  thoughts  as  these 
came  Katie's  question, 

"  Why  are  you  so  sad  V" 

Harry  sighed. 

"  I'm  thinking  of  Ashby,"  said  he.  "  He's 
free  now.     He'll  soon  be  seeking  you," 

At  this  Katie  tapjieu  her  foot  nervously. 

"Well,"  said  she,  "if  you  are  thinking 
of  him  it's  very  bad  taste  to  say  so.  I 
wasn't  thinking  of  him  at  all." 

But  this  remark  seemed  to  set  Katie  off 
thinking  about  Ashby,  for  she  too  seemed 
preoccupied. 

"I  think  it's  a  great  shame,"  said  she. 

"  What  r 

"Why,  for  Mr.  Ashby  to  come  bothering 
me  just  now." 

Harry  said  nothing,  and  they  both  re- 
lapsed once  more  into  silene. 

The  harder  task  was  before  Harry. 
There  were  two  for  him  to  face.  One,  the 
friend  to  whom  he  had  been  a  traitor;  the 
other,  his  betrothed,  to  whom  he  had  been 
false.  Of  these  two  the  latter  was  by  lar 
the  worse.  He  had  faced  Ashby  already, 
and  could  face  liim  again,  as  a  mortal  ene- 
my, to  fight  a  mortal  battle ;  but  Talbot ! 
Ah  I  with  what  eyes  could  he  look  upon 
that  pure  and  noble  face  ?  with  what  weds 
could  lie  address  her  ? 


IGO 


A  CASTLE  IN  SPAIN. 


Katie's  thoughts  Bocmed  to  bo  running 
In  thiit  cliannei  wiiiih  Hurry  was  using  for 
his  own,  for  slio  suddenly  looked  at  idni 
witli  earnest  scrutiny,  and  saitl,  abruptly, 

"  But  you  arc  as  Imd." 

"  As  bail  r 

"As  bad  as  nic." 

Harry  sighed. 

"Mr.  Ashby,"  said  Katie,  innocently, 
"  will  want  to  see  you  too,  you  Itnow.'' 

"  Of  course,"  said  Harry. 

"Oil  well,  then,"  said  Katie,  "I  needn't 
sec  him  at  all.  You  can  explain  it  all ;  for 
really  I  hardly  know  what  I  can  possibly 
lind  to  say  to  liim." 

"I'm  afraid,"  said  Harry,  ''that  he  will 
insist  on  seeing  yon,  and  on  learning  his 
fate  from  jour  own  lips." 

"His  fate  !"  said  Kutic— "oil  dear!" 

"  I  would  take  all  the  difficulty  from  yon 
if  I  could,"  said  Harry,  "but  I  d(m"t  see 
how  T  can." 

"  Oh  well,"  said  Katie,  cheerfully.  "  Per- 
haps he  will  not  l)e  in  any  very  great  hur- 
ry to  sec  me,  after  all.  lie  did  not  seem 
very  anxious  about  nie  in  the  room  below. 
Ue  did  not  look  like  a  maniac.  JIc  did 
not  remonstrate  with  Loj)C7..  He  did  not 
draw  his  pistol  and  attack  the  captain  in 
the  midst  of  his  men.  lie  did  not  fight 
I'or  me,  and  risk  his  life.  No ;  7ie  thought 
too  much  of  his  own  dear  self,  and  lett  all 
the  fighting  and  all  the  risk  to  one  who 
is  worth  far  more  thai  len  thousand  Ash- 
bys!  And  that's  what  I'll  tell  him!"  said 
Katie.  "  Let  me  see  him  now,  while  all 
this  is  fresh  in  my  memory.  Come,  Har- 
ry, let  us  wait  no  longer,  but  if  this  meet- 
ing has  to  be,  let  it  be  now." 

Katie  poured  forth  these  words  in  an 
imjietuous  torrent,  and,  starting  up,  led  the 
way  out.  Harry  followed,  and  thus  they 
descended  the  stairway  to  the  lowei'  hall. 

Ashby  had  gone  out  shortly  after  Harry 
and  Katie,  followingDolores,  who  was  anx- 
ious to  see  about  the  gates.  The  six  Car- 
lists  foUoM'ed.  The  gates  were  wide  open, 
and  fiir  away  a  few  of  the  fugitives  could 
still  be  seen  flying  as  ftist  as  their  feet 
could  carry  them.  The  six  Carlists  soon 
had  the  gates  firmly  closed  and  barred, 
'  and  mounted  guard  here,  deeming  this  to 
l)e  the  weak  point  of  the  castle;  and  think- 
ing, too,  that  if  an  enemy  appeared,  he 
would  consider  six  men  at  the  gate  a  sign 
that  six  hundred  were  in  the  garrison. 

Russell  had  followed  the  six  Carlists, 
thinking  that  with  them  he  would  be  safer 


than  anywhere  else.  Rita  had  now  a  hor- 
ror of  those  Carlists  whom  she  had  betray- 
ed, and,  as  he  thought,  wouUl  venture  any- 
where! rather  than  into  their  i)resence. 

And  now  the  good  man  felt  (piite  mi\r- 
tial.  This  new  change  in  his  situation, 
and  the  inspiring  presence  of  his  military 
friends,  made  him  determine  to  get  rid  of 
tiuit  odious  disguise  which  Rita  had  fur- 
nished him.  lie  proceeded,  therefore,  to 
divest  himself  of  it. 

The  Carlists  had  not  noticed  him  thus 
far,  and  had  not  at  all  recognized  him. 
Great  was  tlujir  surprise  when  they  saw  this 
"  woman  "  tearing  oil"  her  outer  robe ;  but 
far  greater  was  it  when  they  saw  the  mar- 
vellous transformation  of  a  commoujilace 
woman  intc  resplendent  general -officer 
all  in  lilue  and  gold. 

A  murnmr  ran  through  them,  ])artly  of 
amusement,  partly  of  apjjroval. 

One  of  them  addressed  him. 

Russell  shook  his  head. 

"  He  is  a  J"'reneh  general,"  said  one ;  "  he 
doesn't  understand  us.  Can't  some  one 
speak  French  ?" 

No  one  could. 

One  of  them  then  ran  in-ide  and  brought 
out  a  sword,  with  belt,  et<'.,  which  he  hand- 
ed to  the  "  French  general."  Russell  took 
it,  and  after  some  trouble  succeeded  in 
buckling  the  martial  gear  around  him. 
Then,  by  way  of  an  additional  safeguard 
against  his  enemy,  he  drew  his  sword,  and 
taking  his  seat  on  a  stone  near  the  gate, 
glared  watchfully  around. 

Dolores  and  Ashby  had  much  to  talk  of. 
but  Dolores  was  too  prudent  to  waste  time 
on  mere  explanations.  There  was  yet  very 
much  to  be  done.  Above  all,  they  must 
now  consider  how  they  were  to  get  out  of 
the  castle.  After  all,  as  far  as  she  could 
see,  their  position  had  changed  little,  if  at 
all,  for  the  better.  The  enemy  would  rally. 
They  would  be  attacked.  No  defence  was 
possible.  They  would  soon  be  prisoners 
or  fugitives.  And  if  they  were  to  fly,  how 
could  they  hope  to  escape  in  a  country 
swarming  M-ith  roving  bands  of  marauders 
belonging  to  both  parties  ?  The  problem 
was  a  diflScult  one,  and  one  which  was  not 
to  be  solved  very  readily. 

At  length  Dolores  thought  of  the  wound- 
ed men,  and  as  she  had  a  very  tender 
heart,  she  proposed  to  go  and  help  them. 
The  two  then  returned  and  entered  the 
castle. 

They  reached  the  hall  at  the  Tery  time 


A  CASTLE  IN  SPAIN. 


101 


wlicn  tlic  other  parties  were  coming  into 
it — nuiiiely,  Uroolvc  and  Tiilbc)*^  from  tli" 
room,  and  Harry  and  Katie  from  tlic  upper 
regionH.  Such  coinciilcnces  arc  fre([Uent 
in  real  life,  and  still  more  freipient  in  our 
"  Castles  in  Spain." 

As  Brooiic  and  Talbot  came  out,  Asliby 
and  Dolrres,  advancing  toward  the  room, 
met  them  face  to  face.  Brooke  and  Dolores 
looked  >ipon  onf^  another.  There  was  the 
Ihisli  of  mutual  recognition  in  the  faces  of 
both.  Brooke  seemed  struck  dumb,  Do- 
lores was  Mm  first  to  speak. 

"Raleigh!"  she  said,  in  tones  of  amaze- 
ment and  consternation. 

"  Dolores  I"  said  Brooke,  iu  a  deei),  hol- 
low voice. 

Brooke  was  ghastly ;  but  this  may  have 
been  the  effect  of  the  recent  shock.  As  for 
Dolores,  every  trace  of  color  fled  from  i.  ■'• 
face,  and  she  was  as  wiiite  as  marble. 

Tall)ot  heard  this,  and  saw  it.  These 
words,  these  familiar  names,  smote  her  to 
the  heart.  Siie  recollected  the  story  which 
Brooke  had  told  her.  She  remembered 
the  name  of  that  Cuban  maid.  It  was  this 
— it  was  "  Dolores !"     AV'as  this  she  ? 

She  looked  around  in  despair. 

At  that  moment,  as  her  despairing  eyes 
wandered  around,  they  fell  full  upon  the 
face  of  Harry ;  for  Harry  and  Katie  on  de- 
scending the  stairs  had,  on  this  instant, 
reached  the  spot. 

Harry  saw  her  again. 

The  priest's  dress  was  removed.  She 
stood  in  her  own  garlj — her  very  self — Tal- 
bot! with  all  her  noble  face  revealed,  and 
all  her  exquisite  grace  of  feature  and  of 
form. 

"  Sydney  I"  said  he. 

"  Harry  !"  said  Talbot. 

Katie  heard  this.  She  turned  pale.  All 
her  thoughts  lied  from  her;  she  slirank 
back,  and  stood  staring.  But  one  thought 
now  remained — the  thought  suggested  by 
that  name,  Sydney.  Well  she  remembered 
that  name,  and  all  the  incidents  of  that 
story  which  Harry  had  told  her  when  they 
were  first  acquainted  —  the  wreck  of  the 
ship — the  maiden  deserted  and  despairing 
— her  rescue  by  Harry — their  escape  in  the 
boat — their  love — their  plighted  faith — the 
appointed  marriage — the  lost  bride. 

Sydney  I  It  was  she  herself — the  prom- 
ised bride  of  Harry,  whom  lie  would,  no 
doubt,  be  required  to  wed  at  once. 

Now  she  understood  why  Harry  had  been 
so  preoccupied. 


CHAPTER  LIV. 

IN  WHIcn  A   NfMUKH   OK   TKOPLK    KIM,      IIKMSKLVEH 
IN    A    VKKY    KMUAHIUSSI.NU   SITfATION. 

BnooKK  and  Dolores  stood  facing  cuic 
another  in  silence.  The  embarrassment 
was  most  painful.  Each  felt  it  too  much 
to  be  ai)le  to  notice  it  in  the  other,  and 
each  instinctively  avoided  the  glance  of  tiie 
other's  eyes,  casting  only  looks  of  a  furtive 
kind  at  the  ot!ier"s  face,  and  then  hastily 
looking  elsewhere.  In  fact,  the  situation 
was  truly  horrible. 

But  Brooke  felt  it  incumbent  ou  liim  to 
say  something;  he  also  felt  anxious  to  vin- 
dicate his  honor — if  such  a  thing  were,  in- 
deed, in  any  way  possible.  But  ardent 
wortls,  excited,  eager  welcomes,  and  all 
those  other  circumstances  that  usually  at- 
tend upon  the  meeting  of  long-divided  lov- 
e. "  were,  in  this  case,  clearly  impossible. 
Broolce  felt  Talbot's  presence — Talltot,  who 
was  worth  to  him  ten  thousand  like  Do- 
lores ;  so  he  could  only  take  refuge  in  the 
most  commonplace  conventionaliti(!s.  It  is 
true,  Talbot  could  not  uiulerstand  Spanish; 
but  Talbot  could  understand  those  tones  of 
voice  which  form  the  universal  and  natu- 
ral language  of  man ;  and  if  Brooke  had 
felt  ever  so  full  of  eager  delight,  he  would 
have  hesitated  to  manifest  it  under  such 
very  delicate  circumstances. 

At  length  Brooke  cleared  liis  throat. 

"  Tills,"'  said  he,  in  a  solemn  tone — "  this 
is  indeed  an  unexpected  pleasure." 

Dolores  sighed. 

"  It  is  indeed,  senor,"  she  replied,  "  an 
unexpected,  a  most  unexpected  one." 

"It  is  indeed,"  said  Brooke,  in  quite  a 
helpless  way. 

Saying  this  he  held  out  his  hand.  Do- 
lores held  out  hers.  They  shook  hands. 
Then  they  cast  hasty  looks  at  one  another. 

"I  hope  you  have  been  quite  well,"  said 
Brooke. 

"Oh,  quite,"  said  Dolores;  "and  you, 
senor  ?'' 

"  Oh,  very  well,"  said  Brooke,  "very  well 
indeed." 

And  now  another  pause  succeeded. 
Both  of  them  were  horribly  embarrassed. 
Each  had  the  same  feeling,  but  neither  one 
knew  the  feeling  of  the  other.  Each  knew 
that  a  change  had  occurred,  but  neither 
knew  tha^^  the  same  change  had  been  ex- 
perienced by  the  other.  Brooke  knew 
himself  false,  but  thought  Dolores  true; 
while  Dolores  had  a  similar  feeling.    Be- 


lUiJ 


A  CASTLE  IN  SPAIN. 


bides,  (his  new  love  wliicli  eiicli  had  con- 
ci'ivi'd  and  clit.'risiieil  iimdc  tiio  old  one 
seem  a  nustako — made  them  regard  each 
other  witii  aversion,  and  this  meeting  as  a 
calamity;  yet  each  I'elt  hound  to  conceal 
these  I'eelings,  mul  cxhihit  toward  the  oth- 
er an  imi)ossii)le  cordiality.  All  this  caused 
a  wretched  embarrassment  and  restraint, 
whidi  each  lelt  and  for  wliich  each  took 
the  blanu',  thinking  the  other  altogether 
true  and  iiuiocent. 

The  deep  leelings  of  the  past  were  yet 
strong  in  their  hearts— the  immediate  past, 
and  with  these  their  hearts  were  full.  Yet 
tiieso  had  to  be  concealed.  Each  felt 
bound  to  tlie  other  by  a  solemn  vow,  and 
by  every  principle  of  duty  and  honor. 
They  had  exchanged  vows  of  love  and 
eternal  lidelity.  From  such  vows  who 
could  release  theai  ?  Yet  the  vows  were 
already  broken  by  each,  and  of  this  each 
was  conscious.  Had  Br(^oke  met  Dolores 
before  this  last  scene  with  Talb- 1,  ho  might 
have  felt  self- reproach,  bi'i  he  could  not 
have  felt  such  r.  sense  -jf  tmwortlune.ss. 
For  before  that  he  hail,  at  least,  kept  a 
watch  upon  his  tongue;,  and  in  words,  at 
least,  he  had  not  toKl  his  love  for  another. 
Hut  now  his  word  had  gone  forth,  an,,  he 
had  pledged  himself  to  another,  when  there 
was  a  previous  i^kn'.ge  to  Dolores. 

But  he  had  to  say  something.  Dolores 
was  silent.  He  thought  she  was  waiting 
for  him  to  ^'xplain. 

'•  I — I—"  he  stammered — "  I  have  hunted 
— hunted  you— all  through  Spain." 

This  was  the  truth,  for  Brooke  had  becii 
faithful  to  Dolores  until  he  had  met  witl 
Talbot. 

Dolores  was  conscience-smitten  by  this 
proof  of  her  former  lover's  tidelity.  She 
hastened  to  excuse  herself  somehow. 

"I — I  —  "  she  said,  with  an  embarrass- 
ment equal  to  that  of  Brooke — "  I  thought 
you  were  in  America." 

"  No ;  I  was  in  Cuba.  ' 

'•  I  thought  I  had  lost  you,"  said  Dolores: 
"  you  ceased  to  write." 

This  sounded  like  the  reproach  of  a 
faitliful  lover.     Brooke  felt  hurt. 

''Oh  no,"  said  he;  "I  '..rote,  but  you 
ceased  to  answer." 

"I  tliought  something  had  happened," 
said  Dolores. 

"  I  thought  so  too,"  said  Brooke.  "  I 
never  got  your  letters.  Where  did  you 
go?" 

J)olores  jumped  at  this  question  as  giv- 


ing a  chance  of  relief.  So  slie  began  to 
give  a  long  account  of  her  life  in  Spain, 
det'iiling  minute  incidents,  and  growing 
giiidualiy  calmer,  more  self-possessed,  anil 
more  observant  of  Brooke.  She  saw  with 
satisfaction  thai  Br'">ko  made  no  demon- 
strations; yet  her  satisfaction  was  checkcil 
by  tin;  thought  that  periwips  lie  was  deter- 
red from  exhibiting  the  rajitures  of  a  lov(n- 
by  the  presence  of  others— by  the  fear  that 
he  had  been  only  too  true,  and  that  thosf 
raptures  wouh)  yet  be  exiiibited.  She  re- 
sobed  that  he  should  not  have  an  opportu- 
nit, .  Yet  how  could  she  avoid  him  ;  And 
thus  she  thought,  and  still  she  went  on 
talking. 

The  ell'ect  of  her  story  was  a  cru.shing 
one.  She  made  no  mention  of  Ash!)y  ;  ami 
Brooke  co.  jluded  that  she  had  been  true, 
while  he  had  been  false.  And  now  what 
was  he?  Clearly  false.  Could  lie  come 
back  to  Dolores  ?  Could  he  be  what  he 
had  been?  Couldlie  give  up  Talbot?  The 
thought  was  intoleraljle.  Never  had  any 
one  been  to  him  so  dear  as  Talbot.  Never 
Inul  Talbot  'cen  to  itiim  so  dear  as  now. 
And  yet  was  he  not  in  honor  bound  to 
Dolores?  Honor!  and  did  not  honor  bimi 
him  to  Talbot  ? 

Such  -was  the  struggle  within  this  un- 
hajijiy  num. 

Almost  at  the  same  time  Harry  and  Tal- 
bot had  recognized  each  other. 

Talbot,  who  liad  stood  unmoved  at  the 
presence  of  death,  now  felt  herself  quail 
and  grow  all  unnerved  at  the  presence  of 
'•'rry.  But  then  she  had  been  strengtii- 
'I  ;d  by  her  new  love  for  Brooke;  now  she 
was  weakened  by  the  rem-mbrancc  of  Ian- 
lost  love  for  Harry.  This  was  an  ordeal 
for  which  there  was  no  outside  inspiration. 
The  rcmcmbranto  of  her  passionate  words 
to  Brooke,  so  lately  uttered,  so  ardently 
answered,  was  strong  within  her.  And  yet 
here  was  one  who  held  her  promise,  who 
could  claim  her  ns  his  own,  who  could 
take  lier  away  from  Brooke;  and  what 
could  she  do  ? 

Harry,  on  tlie  other  hand,  had  dared 
death  for  Katie ;  for  her  he  had  tried  to 
fling  uway  his  life.  This  had  been  done 
in  the  presence  of  his  Sydney.  Had  she 
understood  that  ?  She  could  not  have  un- 
derstood it.  Could  he  explain  ?  Impossi- 
ble !  Could  ho  tell  iJie  story  of  his  falsity 
to  this  noble  lady,  whom  ho  had  known 
only  to  love,  whom  he  had  known  also  u> 
revere?    And   this  proud,  this  delicately 


A  CASTLE  IN  SPAIN. 


1C3 


nurturc<l  ;^'irl  lind  come  from  her  liomc  for 
his  Biikc,  to  sullcr,  U)  risk  her  life,  to  be- 
come II  miseruljle  captive  I  Wtis  there  not 
in  this  11  stronger  rciisou  tliiin  ever  wliy  lu^ 
should  1)0  true  to  her?  And  yet,  il"  lie 
loved  another  better,  would  it  not  be  wrong 
to  marry  Sydney  ? 

All  the  tenderness  of  his  heart  rose  up 
within  him  in  one  strong,  yeiirning  thought 
of — Oh,  Katie!  Ihit  all  his  honor,  his 
])ride,  his  manliness— all  his  i)ity,  too,  and 
his  sympathy — made  itself  felt  in  a  deep 
undertone  of  feeling  —  Oh,  Hydney  !  true 
and  faithfiU! 

At  last  he  was  able  to  speak. 

"  Oh,  Sydney,"  said  he,  "  what  bitter,  bit- 
ter fortune  has  brought  you  here  to  this 
liorrible  jdace— to  so  nmeh  misery  ?"' 

Talbot  looked  down.  She  could  not 
look  in  his  fice.  Sh(!  felt  unworthy  of 
him.  lie  seemed  faithful  stiP.  She  uad 
seen  the  act  f)f  his  in  atti'.eking  Lo))ez,  but 
had  not  understood  it.  She  thought  him 
faithful,  in  spite  of  all. 

"Hitter!"  said  she,  slow.y.  "Bitter! 
yes,  bitter  indeed — bitter  was  the  fortune 
that  brought  me  here  !"' 

She  could  say  no  more.  She  was  think- 
ing only  of  that  bitter  fortune  which  had 
brought  her  to  a  i)laee  where  she  might  be 
forever  torn  from  Brooke ;  wdiere  Brooke, 
too,  had  found  one  \\ho  might  tear  him 
from  her. 

But  Harry  understood  this  dilferentlj'. 
lie  detected  in  these  words  a  reflection 
upon  himself  lie  thought  she  alluded  to 
her  long  journey  to  hini  —  when  she  had 
come  so  far,  and  had  reached  her  destina- 
tion only  to  lind  Inm  absent ;  when  she 
had  v.aited  for  days  without  finding  any 
trace  of  him  or  hearing  anj'  word  from 
him,  and  at  last  had  turned  idjout  on  her 
lonely,  homeward  road.  And  yot  he  was 
blameless  then.  As  far  as  that  was  con- 
cerned, he  could  excuse  liimself ;  he  could 
explain  all.  Ilo  felt  so  guilty  in  some 
things,  that  he  was  anxious  to  show  his 
innocence  in  other  things  wdierc  he  had 
not  been  to  blame;  and  so  lie  hastened 
most  eagerly  to  give  a  long  and  an  elo- 
quent vindication  of  himself,  by' explain- 
ing all  about  his  journey  to  England,  and 
his  return  to  Barcelona,  and  his  search 
at\er  her  which  had  led  him  to  this. 

And  in  all  tliis  Talbot  found  only  proofs 
of  Harry's  un^ltuiable  fidelity.  lie  had 
been  true!  She  liad  been  false!  What 
now  was  there  for  her  to  do  ?    To  sacrifice 


this  man  ?  What !  after  such  lovo  and  loy- 
alty ?  Or,  on  the  other  hand,  to  give  up 
Brooke!  Brooke!— give  up  Brooke!  Oh 
heavens !  How  was  that  jjossible  'i  Would 
she  not  rather  die  than  give  up  Bnjoke  i 
When  her  own  words  to  him  were  fresh  in 
her  memory,  and  when  his  words  of  love 
to  lier  were  still  ringing  in  her  cars- -at 
such  a  moment  as  this  could  she  think  of 
giving  up  Brooke  ? 

Such  were  the  thoughts  and  feelings  of 
these  two. 

Meanwhile  Ashby,  finding  himself  left 
alone  by  Dolores,  stood  for  a  while  won- 
dering who  her  friend  might  be ;  until  at 
length,  linding  that  she  was  beginning  to 
give  him  a  detailed  history  of  her  life,  he 
looked  around  in  despair.  And  he  saw 
Katie  stamling  alone,  w  here  she  had  liecn 
left  by  Harry,  near  the  foot  of  the  ■^fairway; 
and  as  all  the  others  were  engaged  in  their 
own  all'airs,  and,  mo.cover,  as  his  relations 
with  Katie  were  of  the  most  intimate  kind, 
he  saw  no  other  course  open  to  him  than  to 
apjiroaeh  her  and  converse  with  her.  And 
at  that  moment  he  remembered  that  Katie 
had  in  her  possession  —  perhaps  in  her 
pocket — a  certain  letter  which  he  had 
written  to  her  only  a  few  days  before,  full 
of  protc.'stations  of  love;  in  which  he  in- 
formed her  that  he  was  going  to  travel 
with  her  in  the  same  train,  in  the  hope  of 
seeing  her  at  Burgos  or  Bayonne  ;  in  which 
he  urged  her  to  come  to  him,  to  be  his 
wife ;  to  set  at  defiance  her  liostihi  guard- 
ian, and  to  unite  herself  with  liiin.  This 
seemed  strange  to  him  now,  when  his  mind 
was  filled  with  thoughts  of  Dolores,  and 
his  heart  was  full  of  the  love  of  Dolores. 
Even  his  resentment  against  her  had  passed 
away.  She  had  allowed  herself  to  indulge 
in  a  flirtation  with  his  friend  Riven.  Was 
that  a  Clime  ?  He,  on  the  other  hand,  had 
lost  all  love  for  her,  and  had  given  all  his 
heart  to  Dolores.  Katie  seemed  to  him 
now  not  repugnant  as  a  false  one,  but  mere- 
ly pitiable  as  a  weak,  child-like  character. 
The  falsity  now  Bcemed  rather  on  his  part 
than  on  hers.  He  believed  that  Harry  had 
gone  much  farther  in  treachery  than  Katie, 
Katie,  he  thought,  was  merely  a  weak- 
minded  flirt ;  while  Harry  had  become  a 
traitor  in  allowing  himself  to  fall  in  love 
with  her.  Even  for  Harry  he  could  now 
make  some  allowances;  and  since  he  h.ad 
found  out  his  own  feelings,  he  had  less 
jealousy,  and  therefore  less  resentment 
against  his  former  friend.    As  for  jealousy, 


164 


A  CASTLE  IN  SPAIN. 


if  lie  now  bad  that  feeling,  it  was  all  di- 
rected elsewhere  —  namely,  toward  that 
stranger  whoso  sudden  appearance  had  so 
engrossed  Dolores. 

In  such  a  state  of  mind  as  this  Ashljy 
advanced  toward  Katie.  Now  Katie  had 
come  down  with  the  express  purpose  of 
seeing  him,  and  with  her  mind  full  of  a 
very  pretty  speech  whicli  she  intended  to 
make  to  him.  But  the  sudden  meeting 
of  Harry  with  Talbot  had  raised  other 
thoughts  and  feelings,  whicli  had  driven 
her  pretty  speech  altogctlier  out  of  her 
mind.  A  bitter  jealousy  aillicted  her  ten- 
der heart.  This  laily  was  the  Sydney  Tal- 
bot of  whom  he  had  told  her,  and  wlio  had 
come  all  the  Avay  from  England  on  this 
perilous  journey  to  marry  him.  Would  she 
now  give  him  up  ?  Impossible  !  And  how 
could  Harry  escape  her  ? 

As  Asliby  approaeiied,  Katie  therefore 
had  but  little  thought  for  him.  Ashby 
also  thought  less  of  her  tlian  of  Dolores. 
Who  was  this  stranger  ?  he  thought.  Why 
was  he  so  familiar?  Why  did  Dolores 
leave  him  so  abruptly  ?  and  why  was  she 
telling  to  this  stranger  the  wliole  story  of 
her  life? 

Thus  Ashby  and  Katie  met  again. 

Ashby  had  to  say  something,  and  so,  as 
was  natural,  he  took  refuge  in  convention- 
alities. 

'•  I  hope,"  said  he,  "  that  no  ill  eifects 
have  arisen  from  tliis  recent  excitement." 

''  Oh  no,"  said  Katie,  in  an  abstracted 
tone  She  was  trying  to  listen  to  Talbot's 
words.    They  did  not  sound  pleasant, 

Ashby  also  was  trying  to  listen  to  Do- 
lores. She  seemed  to  him  to  be  altogether 
too  familiar. 

"  I'm  very  glad,"  said  Ashby.  "  I  was 
afraid  that  this  excitement  might  have  an 
injurious  effect." 

(Dolores  was  still  giving  an  account  of 
herself.    It  was  unworthy  of  her !) 

"  Oh  no,"  said  Katie,  "  not  at  all." 

She  heard  Harry  speak  in  an  apologetic 
manner.  It  was  very  hard  to  bear.  Would 
he  leave  her  for  this  lady  ? 

There  was  now  a  pause. 

Ashby  and  Katie  were  both  listening 
with  all  their  might  to  hear  what  was  said 
by  Dolores  and  by  Harry  respectively. 

Ashby  felt  the  n.cessity  of  saying  some- 
thing, 

"■"■"ry  fine  weather,"  said  he. 

"  Oh,  very  fine,"  said  Katie, 

"  A  fine  moon." 


"  Oh,  very  fine," 

At  this  mention  of  the  moon,  each 
thought  of  tliose  moonbeams  which  Iiad 
streamed  in  through  the  narrow  windows 
on  those  past  few  nights — nights  so  mem- 
orable to  each  ;  and  each  thought  of  them 
with  the  same  feelings. 

Ashby  tried  to  find  something  new  to 
say.  He  tliought  of  the  position  in  which 
they  all  were — its  danger— their  liability  to 
recapture— the  necessity  of  flight,  and  yet 
the  difficulty  of  doing  so — things  which 
he  and  Dolores  had  just  been  considering, 

"  This,"  said  he,  "  is  a  very  embarrassing 
jjosition," 

Katie  by  this  understood  him  to  mean 
the  relations  which  they  bore  to  one  an- 
other, and  wliicli  had  become  somewhat 
confused  by  her  affair  with  Harry.  She 
thought  this  was  Ashby's  way  of  putting 
it. 

She  8ighe(i.  She  looked  at  Harry  and 
Talbot.  They  seemed  coming  to  an  under- 
standing. Harry  was  certainly  making  an 
explanation  which  seemed  unnecessarily 
long.  And  here  was  Ashby  hinting  at  an 
explanation  witii  herself.  She  had  forgot- 
ten all  her  fine  speech  with  which  she  had 
come  down.  She  knew  not  what  to  say. 
She  only  felt  a  jealous  fear  about  Harry, 
and  another  fear  about  an  explanation 
with  Ashby. 

Asliby  meanwhile  thought  nothing  about 
Katie,  but  was  full  of  eagerness  to  learn 
what  was  going  on  between  Dolores  and 
Brooke. 

And  thus  it  was  certainly  an  embarrass- 
ing situation. 

There  were  three  couples  involved  in 
this  embarrassing  situation,  and  among 
them  al'  it  is  difficult  to  say  which  was 
most  emOarrassed.  It  was  bad  enough  to 
meet  with  the  old  lover,  but  it  was  worse 
to  feel  that  the  eye  of  the  new  lover  was 
upon  them.  Moreover,  each  new  lover  felt 
jealous  of  the  old  one ;  and  the  mind  of 
each  had  thus  to  be  distracted  between 
two  discordant  anxieties.  In  short,  it  was, 
as  Ashby  had  well  said,  a  most  embarrass- 
ing situation. 

Suddenly,  in  the  midst  of  all  this,  a  fig- 
ure entered  the  hall  which  attracted  al! 
eyes.  It  was  a  figure  of  commanding  im- 
portance ;  a  man  ratiicr  elderly,  in  the  uni- 
form of  a  general-officer — all  ablaze  with 
gold.  Tlicre  was  a  universal  shock  at  such 
an  apparition.  The  first  thought  of  every 
one  was  that  the  castle  had  been  captured 


A  CAfiTLE  IN  SPAIN. 


165 


by  some  new  enemy  —  that  this  was  the 
leader,  and  that  they  all  were  prisoners. 

Bat  one  l)y  one,  to  Ash  by,  Harry,  Brooke ; 
to  Katie,  Talbot,  and  Dolores  —  came  tlie 
recognition  of  the  fact  that  under  this  mag- 
nificent exterior  lay  concealed  the  person 
of  their  companion  and  friend,  the  veiiera- 
ble  and  the  virtuous  Russell. 

"I  want  to  look  after  something,"'  said 
he ;  and  with  these  words  he  went  into  the 
room  where  he  had  first  been  confined — 
namely,  the  one  opposite  to  that  in  Avhich 
the  recent  ceremony  had  taken  place. 


CHAPTER  LV. 

now  HAunv  and  katie  discuss  ■fie  situatiok, 

AND   ASHDY   TELLS  DOLORES   HER  DUTY. 

The  sudden  a^ipearance  of  Russell  In'oke 
the  spell  which  had  rested  upon  all. 

Talbot  was  the  first  to  make  a  movement. 

"Excuse  me  for  a  few  moments,"  said 
she.  "Tiiere  are  some  Avoundcd  men  in- 
side who  are  in  my  care.  I  came  out  to 
get  some  water  for  them.  I  must  make 
hpste." 

Saying  these  words,  she  left  Harry,  and 
went  to  a  corner  of  the  apartment  wiiere 
there  was  a  jar  of  water.  Filling  a  vessel 
from  tliis,  she  returned  to  the  wounded. 

Harry  did  not  follow  her. 

Upon  seeing  this  movement  of  Talbot, 
Katie  witiidrew  from  Ashby.  Ashby  did 
not  seem  to  notice  this,  for  he  was  still 
watching  Dolores. 

Dolores  now  remarked  to  Brooke  that 
she  was  just  at  that  time  engaged  in  look- 
ing after  the  defences  of  the  castle,  for 
there  was  serious  danger  of  an  immediate 
attack  by  the  enemy. 

At  this  Brooke  said  nothing,  but  merely 
bowed,  and  followed  Talbot  to  help  her 
with  the  wounded  men. 

Dolores,  upon  this,  cast  a  glance  at  Ash- 
ley and  went  out.  Ashby  immediately  fol- 
io , red  her. 

Upon  this,  Harry  approached  Katie. 
Neither  said  a  word,  but,  acting  on  one 
common  impulse,  they  went  up  -  stairs  to- 
gether into  the  upper  hall.  As  they  thus 
went  up,  Russell  came  out  of  the  other 
room.,  and,  seeing  them  ascending  the  stairs, 
he  followed  them. 

On  reaching  the  top  of  the  stairs,  Harry 
and  Katie  stood,  and  Russell  also  stopped 
a  little  below.    He  wasn't  proud.    He  was 


anxious  for  information.  So  he  stood  and 
listened  to  what  they  had  to  say. 

The  two  stood  there  in  silence  for  some 
time,  until  at  length  Katie  spoke. 

"Isn't  this  horrible?"  said  she,  with  a 
heavy  sigh. 

Harry  gave  another  sigh  responsive  to 
hers. 

"It's  worse,"  said  Katie,  "  than  ever." 

Harry,  with  another  sigh,  allowed  that  it 
was. 

"I  can't  stay  here,"  said  Katie,  "in  this 
place,  and,  what's  more,  I  won't  stay.  I'm 
free  now,  and  I've  made  up  my  mind  to 
go  away." 

"Will  you?"  said  Harry,  in  an  eager 
voice. 

"Yes,  I  will,"  said  Katie,  decidedly; 
"  and  I'll  go  alt  alone.  You  needn't  come ; 
for  of  course  you'll  stay." 

"  Stay  ?"  said  Harry — "  stay  ?  and  here — 
when  you've  gone  away  ?'' 

"  Oh  yes,"  said  Katie,  "  of  course  you'll 
stay  here  with  your  dear  Sydney !" 

Harry  sighed. 

"But  /  won't  stay,'  continued  Katie, 
after  another  pause  ;  "  I'm  going  to  leave ; 
and  I'll  walk  back  to  the  railway  all  alone." 

"  I  tliink  that  would  be  a  capital  idea  I" 
said  Harry,  in  a  tone  of  great  animation. 

At  this  Katie  burst  into  tears. 

Harry  was  now  quite  distracted.  He 
caught  her  in  his  arms  and  kissed  her  over 
and  over  again. 

"You  don't  understand,'*  said  he.  "I 
mean  ii  would  be  a  good  idea  to  go ;  but, 
of  course,  you  shall  not  go  alone." 

"Yes,  I  will  go  alone,"  said  Katie,  "all 
alone.  You  don't  en  re  for  me,  now  that 
you've  got  your  Sydney.  You  don't  care 
for  mc  a  bit !'' 

"Care  for  you!"  cried  Harry;  "you're 
the  only  one,  Katie,  in  all  the  world  that  I 
do  care  for." 

Katie  struggled  away  from  his  encircling 
arms. 

"No,''  said  she,  "you're  not  speaking 
the  truth.  You'll  leave  me,  and  say  those 
same  words  to  your  Sydney." 

"Bother  Sydney!"  cried  Harry,  in  un- 
feigned vexation. 

At  this  Katie,  whose  head  had  been  for 
a  moment  averted,  now  turned  her  tearful 
eyes  on  him,  and  Harry  once  more  took 
her  in  his  arms. 

"  But  do  you,  after  all,"  said  she — "  do 
you,  after  all,  care  for  me  juBt  a  little  bit, 
Harrj  ?" 


«^ 


IGG 


A  CASTLE  IN  SPAIN. 


"Cure  for.jou?"  cried  Harry,  with  hcnd- 
loiif,'  iinpcUiosity.  "I  swear,  Kiitio,  that  I 
love  you  belter  tlian  all  tlie  world.  I  will 
give  iij)  everything  for  you.  AVill  you  do 
as  much  for  inc?" 

"Why — why — how  can  I  help  it?"  saitl 
Katie. 

At  thia  reply  Harry  kissed  her  again. 

"You — you— offered  your  life  for  me," 
said  Katie,  in  tearful  agitation, "  and  didn't 
I  almost  give  my  life  for  you,  you  dear  old 
boy  ?  You  (h)n't  know  all  yet.  You  don't 
know  that  it  was  for  your  sake  only,  and  to 
save  you  from  death,  that  I  consented  to 
sacrilice  myself  to  tluit  awful  man." 

Katio  now  told  Harry  the  wliole  storv, 
and  the  etfeet  of  (his  narration  was  only 
to  intensity  the  ardent  love  of  this  volatile 
youth.  "While  he  had  been  face  to  face 
with  Tali)ot,  he  had  undei^^onc  a  severe 
struggle  from  contiicting  emotions  and  im- 
pulses. Hut,  now  Katie  was  before  him, 
Talbot  was  present  no  longer;  and  Katie 
was  so  sweet,  so  tender,  so  trustful,  and, 
above  all,  she  had  such  a  story  to  tell,  that 
he  could  not  resist.  Talbot's  claims  on 
him  became  less  and  less  jierceptiljle  in 
those  now  ones  which  Katie  presented ; 
and  so  the  conse(]ucnce  was  that  he  yield- 
ed up  everything — his  honor,  his  loyalty, 
and  his  duty. 

"  Katie,"  said  he,  as  he  pressed  her  in  his 
arms,  "I  love  you  alone — I'll  give  up  all 
for  you.  Let  us  fly  from  this  place ;  let 
us  fly.  Let  us  not  wait  liere  where  these 
other  pco]ilc  arc."' 

"Fly  r  said  Katie  ;    '  where?" 

"  Ye.s,  fly !" 

"  But  how  can  we  get  out  ?  Sludl  we  go 
out  boldly  through  the  gate  ?" 

Suddenly  some  one  came  between  them, 
and  a  voice  chimed  into  the  conversation. 

"  Yes,"  said  the  voice,  "  fly  I  That's  the 
ticket.  There's  a  devil  here — a  she-devil. 
I'll  show  you  the  way  out.  If  J'ou  want  to 
get  oft"  without  Ashby  seeing  you,  I'll  show 
you  how ;  I  know  the  way.  It's  a  secret 
passage.  That's  how  I  escaped  the  last 
time ;  and  I'll  take  you  to  it  when  it  gets 
dark." 

It  was  Russell  who  had  thus  interposed. 
Harry  and  Katie  showed  no  resentment 
whatever  at  his  intrusion,  but  caught  at  his 
suggestion.  Russell  alluded  with  clumsy 
and  rather  vulgar  playfulness  to  their  ten- 
der relations,  and  oflTered,  as  guardian,  to 
give  Katie  away  the  moment  they  should 
find  a  parson. 


Meanwhile  Dolores  had  gone  out  into 
the  court-yard,  followed  by  Ashby.  There 
th(7  stopped,  and  looked  at  one  uuotlicr  ia 
silence. 

"  Who's  that  fellow?"  said  Ashby  at  last. 

Dolores  e.\ plained  that  he  was  a  friend 
of  hers  who  had  been  of  great  help  in 
Cuba.  She  did  not  tell  how  tender  their 
relations  had  been. 

"H'm!''  said  Asii.by.  "Never  heard  of 
him  before.     You  seemed  very  intinuite." 

"  He  saved  my  life,"  said  Dolores. 

"Saved  your  lid"?" 

Dolores  sighed. 

Then  more  of  lu'r  story  escaped  her.  At 
last  the  whole  trutii  came  out. 

"  What !"  said  Ashby  ;  "  and  so  you  were 
engaged.  In  fact,  tlie  fellow  is  an  oUI 
lover." 

Dolores  said  nothing,  but  looked  at  Ash- 
by with  mournful  in<pur}-,  as  though  ap- 
])ealing  to  him  to  know  what  she  ought 
to  do. 

"How  did  he  get  here?"  asked  Aslibj-, 
cahnly. 

"He  has  been  seeking  for  mo  all  these 
years,  and  traced  me  here,  and  was  caji- 
tured." 

"  H'm  !  that's  devotion,"  sa'd  Ashl)y. 
"And  Avho's  his  friend — the  girl  that  was 
disguised  as  priest  ?" 

"I  don't  know." 

"So  she's  a  girl,"  said  Ashby;  "and  so 
that's  the  reason  she  wouldn't  marry  Lopez 
and  Katie.  A  most  infernally  pretty  girl. 
Who  is  she,  did  you  say  ?'' 

"  I  don't  know." 

"Didn't  your— j'our  friend  tell  you  ?'' 

"  No." 

It  may  be  supposed  that  Ashby  should 
have  known  Rrooke's  feelings  toward  this 
"priest"  by  liis  devotion  to  her  in  saving 
her  life.  But  it  Avas  not  so.  Brooke's  des- 
perate act  in  flinging  himself  belbrc  Lopez 
seemed  to  Ashby  merely  an  accident  con- 
secpient  uj)on  liis  struggle  with  his  captors. 
Besides,  the  attack  of  Dolores  and  her  si.K 
Carlists  bad  followed  so  closely  upon  this, 
that  all  had  become  confused  together. 

AVhile  Ashby  had  been  asking  these  few 
(piestions,  Dolores  remained  looking  at  him 
with  that  same  mournful  inquiry.  Ashby 
noticed  it,  for  he  looked  at  her  several 
times,  though  each  time  he  looked  away 
elsewhere.  He  was  turning  over  all  this  in 
his  mind. 

At  length  he  looked  at  her  once  more, 
and  took  her  hands  iu  bis. 


A  CASTLE  IN  SPAIN. 


1C7 


"  Dolores,''  said  he,  "  I  Imvc  mnilc  up  my 
iiiiiul." 

"  Wliiit  ?"'  said  she,  in  iv  luint  voice,  look- 
iiif;  up  at  liiiu  in  awful  suMpoiise. 

"I  will  rot  give  you  up!  That's  de- 
cided. You  must  dismiss  tlic  idea  from 
your  mind." 

In  an  instant  the  hIuuIow  of  anxiety  fled 
from  the  faro  of  Dolores,  followed  Wy  a 
flash  of  joy  like  a  sunbeam.  Siiu  said  not 
a  word,  h\it  Ashhy  saw  that  rush  of  happi- 
ness, and  all  his  own  nature  responded. 

"  You  must  come  with  me,"  said  he. 
"  That  fellow  may  look  o<it  for  himself" 

"But— liut — ".     d  Dolores.   Slie  paused. 

"  What  r 

"  Wc — we — arc — engaged." 

"Poohl"  said  Ashby.  "That's  an  old 
story." 

"But— but— " 

"  Well  ?"  said  Ashby,  impatiently,  as  she 
paused. 

"  lie — he — saved  my  life  once." 

"He  be  hanged!"  said  Ashby,  "I'll 
save  your  life  fifty  times.  You  mustn't 
think  of  that  man  again.  Do  you  hear, 
Dolores  T 

"  Yes,"  said  Dolores, meekly; "  but  I  only 
want  to  satisfy  my  conscience,  and  find  out 
my  duty." 

"  Conscience  ?  Duty  ?  Ah  !"  repeated 
Ashby.  "  Weil,  then,  I'll  tell  you  what  to 
think  of — think  of  me  f  Here  was  I,  en- 
gaged to  that  English  maiden.  You  have 
won  my  love.  You  have  made  me  indif- 
ferent to  her.  You  have  made  my  love 
grow  stronger  and  stronger  every  moment, 
until  now  I'm  ready  to  give  up  everything 
for  you.  Your  duty,  therefore,  is  to  be 
true  to  me,  as  I  will  be  true  to  you." 

Dolores  looked  up  again  with  her  face 
in  a  rapture  of  gladness,  and  Ashby  pressed 
her  hands  more  closely  in  liis.  Then  they 
walked  away  to  inspect  the  fortifications. 


CHAPTER  LVI. 

IN  WHICH  THERE  13  A  TERRIDLE  CALAMITY. 

Russell's  advent  among  the  embarrass- 
ed lovers  can  easily  be  explained.  Seated 
at  the  gate  in  the  uniform  of  a  general, 
with  gorgeous  array  of  blue  and  gold,  with 
a  sword  in  his  manly  hand,  and  armed 
warriors  around  him.  his  martial  soul  had 
gradually  lost  its  terrors,  and  his  mind  was 
at  leisure  to  think  of  other  things. 


First  among  these  other  things  was  that 
l)reei()U3  package  which  he  hud  concealed. 
Now  was  tlic  time  for  him  to  look  them  up 
and  regain  i)ossession.  None  l)ut  friends 
were  now  in  the  castle.  Tli()S(!  Iionds  were 
now  safer  in  his  own  jjossession  than  any- 
where else,  and  never  could  he  hope  for  a 
better  chance  tlnin  tins.  As  for  Kita,  she 
must  have  fled,  he  thought,  with  the  otlier 
fugitives,  and  with  her  had  fletl  his  worst 
fear, 

AVilh  such  tiu)ughts  as  these,  the  martial 
Russell  siieatiied  his  warlike  sword  and 
walked  back  a^ain  toward  the  castle.  Here 
lie  entered  the  ludl  where  tlie  others  were 
talking,  and,  passing  through,  mtered  the 
well-remcml)ered  room  where  he  had  l)ccu 
confined.  He  looked  all  arouml.  He  was 
alone.  Ho  walked  to  tiie  ehiimiey.  He 
looked  up.  Through  the  broad  opening 
at  the  top  lie  saw  the  sky.  In  tlie  gloom 
of  tlie  shaft  he  saw  also  that  opening  in 
which  he  had  placed  the  precious  parcel. 

All  seemeil  as  it  had  l^een,  and  he  felt 
convinced  that  his  papers  were  safe.  Fur- 
ther examination,  however,  was,  just  now, 
not  advisable.  He;  would  have  to  light  a 
torch,  and  some  of  his  friends  might  come 
111  just  as  he  was  going  up  or  coming 
down.  So  he  concluded  to  defer  his  search 
until  they  had  gone  out  of  the  way  a  little, 
until  wliicli  time  the  package  would  be 
quite  safe.  In  the  mean  time  he  thought 
lie  would  go  back  and  hear  what  they  were 
all  talking  about. 

Coming  back  again,  he  saw  them  all  go- 
ing in  ditt'erent  directions,  and,  as  a  matter 
of  course,  he  followed  those  who  were  near- 
est and  dearest,  namely,  Katie  and  Harry. 
He  stood  and  listened  with  a  benignant 
smile  to  their  loving  words.  He  gazed 
complacently  upon  their  outrageous  and 
unbounded  spooning.  He  had  no  objec- 
tion now  to  any  one  whom  Katie  might 
choose.  To  Ashl)y  he  felt  repugnance  on 
account  of  former  quarrels,  but  to  Harry 
none  whatever.  Even  to  Ashby  he  would 
have  yielded,  for  preju<lices  die  out  quick- 
ly in  a  Castle  of  Spain.  And  so,  as  wc 
have  seen,  the  good  Russell  interrupted  the 
happy  lovers  in  a  ])aternal  way,  and  did 
the  "  heavy  father  "  to  perfection  —  with 
outstretched  hands,  moistened  eyes,  and 
"  Bless  you,  bless  you,  my  children  !" 

The  subject  of  flight  was  already  before 
them,  and  this  was  for  Russell  the  most  ac- 
ceptable possible.  He  felt  that  he  could 
give  valuable  information,  since  he  himself 


1C8 


A  CASTLE  IN  SPAIN. 


had  been  a  fugitive.  Every  step  of  the 
way  was  wM  remembered  by  him.  In  a 
few  minutes  he  luid  niiule  them  acquainted 
with  the  story  of  liis  former  escape,  and  tiie 
adventurous  Harry  at  once  decided  that 
this  would  be  thi^  very  way  by  which  he 
coukl  carry  olF  Katie  and  himself  from 
their  embarrassing  surroundings.  For  va- 
rious reasons  he  wished  to  go  away  in  a 
quiet,  unobtrusive  manner,  without  osten- 
tation or  vain  display,  and  in  no  otlier  way 
could  he  do  it  so  eft'ectually  as  in  this. 

Harry  at  once  decided  that  his  best 
course  would  be  to  spend  the  hours  of 
closing  day  in  making  iiimself  acquainted 
with  this  passage.  He  did  not  feel  inclined 
to  be  altogether  dependent  upon  Russell. 
Circumstances  might  arise  which  might 
make  it  desirable  to  fly  without  him.  That 
good  man  might  become  suddenly  unwell, 
or  there  might  be  an  attack  by  the  enemy, 
or  other  things  might  occur,  under  any  of 
which  circumstances  Harry  would  have  to 
rely  upon  himself  alone. 

Russell  had  no  objections;  in  fact,  he 
himself  preferred  going  over  the  way  once 
more.  About  this  there  was  no  difficulty. 
There  were  very  few  in  the  castle,  and 
these  had  no  idea  of  watching  each  other; 
in  fact,  each  party  seemed  only  too  anxious 
to  keep  out  of  the  other's  way. 

Katie  now  retired  to  that  room  which 
she  had  last  occupied,  and  Harry  went  off 
with  Russell.  The  daylight  befriended 
them  so  that  they  were  able  to  lind  their 
way  along  the  lower  passages,  until  at 
length  they  came  to  the  opening  under  the 
arcli  of  the  ruined  bridge.  Here  they  both 
went  down  one  side  of  the  chasm  and  up 
the  other  until  they  both  reached  the  tow- 
er. Harry  was  delighted  with  this  discov- 
ery, and  fel  adly  capable  of  traversing  the 
path  himself  even  in  the  darkest  night; 
while  Russell,  though  a  little  out  of  breath, 
was  quite  willing  to  bear  the  fatigue  in  re- 
turn for  the  additional  knowledge  he  had 
gained. 

On  regaining  the  castle,  Harry  went  to 
tell  Katie  tlie  result,  and  to  prepare  her 
for  their  coming  flight. 

Russell  now  had  leisure  to  attend  to  the 
great  work  of  securing  the  hidden  treas- 
ure. He  decided  that  he  ought  to  do  tins 
in  perfect  secrecy,  so  that  none  of  his  friends 
should  know  where  he  was  going,  or  even 
suspect  it. 

First  of  all,  he  followed  Harry  to  the  up- 
per atory,  where   he  took  an   aflectionate 


leave  of  him.  Then  he  prowled  about  until 
he  discovered  Ashby,  who  was  with  Do- 
lores in  a  remote  part  of  the  court-yard. 
The  six  Carlists  were  still  at  the  gate.  The 
other  two  inmates  of  the  castle,  namely, 
Brooke  and  Talbot,  were  in  the  room  in 
which  the  recent  stormy  events  had  taken 
place.  They  had  been  attending  to  the 
wounds  of  the  prisoners,  and  were  still  so 
engaged  that  they  did  not  look  up  as  Rus- 
sell entered.  He  said  nothing,  but  hastily 
retreated  and  went  into  the  opposite  room 
— the  very  one  in  which  he  was  to  conduct 
his  operations.  But  he  was  too  cautious  to 
begin  just  yet ;  so  he  waited,  and  at  length 
had  the  satisfaction  of  seeing  these  two  go 
down-stairs  and  out  of  the  castle. 

And  now  at  last  the  time  had  come. 
There  was  no  eye  to  behold  him,  and  no 
one  to  suspect. 

An  old  torch  was  in  the  fireplace.  This 
he  picked  up,  aud  then,  going  back  to  the 
door,  looked  all  around  stealthily  and  war- 
ily.   All  was  still. 

Thereupon  he  returned.  His  manly 
heart  was  throbbing  fast — violently,  even 
painfully.  The  sense  of  loneliness  was  op- 
pressive. Had  his  purpose  been  less  im- 
portant, he  would  certainly  have  turned 
and  fled.  But  too  much  was  at  stake.  Be- 
fore him  there  arose  the  vision  of  that  vast 
treasure — thirty  thousand  pounds — and  its 
attraction  was  irresistible.  He  must  go 
forward ;  and  now  was  the  time  to  win,  or 
never. 

He  stood  for  a  moment  gathering  up  his 
courage. 

"What  if  Rita  should  be  concealed  some- 
where up  there ! 

Such  was  the  awful  thought  that  sud- 
denly occurred  to  him  and  made  him  quail. 

Tiie  idea  suggested  itself  of  going  back 
to  Harry  and  getting  his  aid.  But  no,  that 
would  never  do.  He  would  let  it  be  sup- 
posed that  these  bonds  liad  been  taken 
from  him.  If  he  were  to  tell  his  secret  to 
Harry,  all  would  be  lost.  No ;  he  must  go. 
and  alone. 

Once  more  he  went  to  the  door  and  lis- 
tened.    All  was  still. 

He  now  nerved  himself  up  for  a  supreme 
eff"ort.  If  he  were  to  delay  any  longer, 
some  of  them  would  be  sure  to  return. 
Now  or  never. 

He  struck  a  match  against  the  stone 
floor.     It  kindled. 

In  another  moment  the  torch  was  blaz- 
ing  brightly;    and,  holding  this  in  one 


A  CASTLE  IN  SP.UN. 


169 


Ivuud,  Russell  used  his  other  baud  to  clam- 
ber up  the  projectiug  stones. 

Up  lie  went,  liigher  and  higher. 

And  now  he  reached  the  oi)ening,  and 
his  knee  was  resting  ujjon  it,  and  he  was 
just  about  to  raise  the  torch  so  as  to  peer 
in. 

At  that  instant  there  was  a  sudden  rush, 
and  a  s])ring,  that  sent  a  thrill  of  sharp 
agony  to  his  heart.  A  pair  of  strong  arms 
were  flung  al)()ut  him.  The  torch  fell,  and 
the  smoke  lilinded  his  eyes.  He  felt  him- 
self dragged  forward  helplessly  into  the 
gloomy  hole,  while  a  fierce  whisper  hissed 
into  his  despairing  cars  words  that  made 
him  almost  die  out  of  sheer  fright — 

'•  Ilah !  base  traidor,  I  haft'u  you  !  I  haft'a 
you !  You  salla  not  scappar  from  Rita 
again !" 

At  this  Russell  gave  a  wild,  long,  pierc- 
ing yell,  anil  fainted. 


CHAPTEK  LVII. 

IN  Wnicn  DUOOKE  AND  TALDOT  PREPARE  TO  BU) 
EACH  OTHER  AN  ETEUNAL  FAREWELL. 

On  turning  away  from  that  eventful 
meeting  with  old  friends,  both  Brooke  and 
Talbot  felt  very  greatly  depressed,  and 
neither  could  say  a  word.  This  feeling  was 
experienced  by  both  to  an  equal  degree; 
and  neither  of  them  could  see  any  possible 
way  out  of  this  new  difficulty  that  could 
commend  itself  to  an  honorable  mind. 

The  conversation  with  Harry  had  quite 
overwhelmed  Talbot.  He  had  been  so 
eager  to  explain,  and  the  explanations  had 
shown  such  fidelity  on  his  part,  he  had 
seemed  so  true,  and  liis  vindication  had 
been  so  complete,  that  she  had  not  one 
word  to  say.  For  the  fact  remained  plain 
before  her  mind  that  the  cause  of  his  fail- 
ing to  receive  her  at  Barcelona  was  his 
very  eagerness  to  meet  her  which  had  sent 
him  flying  in  all  haste  to  England.  If  he 
had  ever  been  in  fault,  the  fault  was  one 
which  had  arisen  from  excess  of  love.  To 
a  generous  mind  like  Talbot's  this  was  a 
most  distressing  thought. 

Still,  there  was  another  thought  which 
was  worse,  and  that  was  this  —  namely, 
that  Harry  could  no  longer  satisfy  her. 
Whether  she  had  ever  really  loved  liim  or 
not  she  did  not  now  stop  to  inquire,  nor 
was  such  an  inquiry  worth  making.  It 
was  only  too  evident  now  that  Harry  had 
declined  to  nothingness,  and  less  than  noth- 


ingness, in  her  heart,  and  that  in  the  course 
of  the  tragical  events  of  tlie  last  few  days 
Brooke  had  grown  to  be  more  than  all  the 
world  to  her. 

The  feelings  and  thoughts  of  Brooke 
wer.  of  the  same  description.  It  had 
scraied  to  him  that  Dolores  had  been  faith- 
ful ;  and  us  he  had  all  along  fuU  firmly 
convinced  of  her  pasyionate  love  for  hini- 
.self  and  unalterable  fidelity,  it  never  enter- 
ed into  his  head  now  to  suspect  any  change 
in  her.  At  the  same  time,  he  felt  that, 
whether  he  had  ever  loved  her  formerly  or 
not,  he  certainly  had  no  feeling  of  love  for 
her  now  ;  for  Talbot  had  utterly  effaced 
that  former  image,  and  all  the  world  would 
now  be  as  nothing  to  him  without  Talbot. 

For  some  time  they  devotetl  tliemselves 
to  the  wounded  men.  and  then,  having  fin- 
ished this  task,  they  retreated  to  the  far- 
thest end  of  the  room.  Here  there  was  a 
rude  bench,  upon  which  they  seated  them- 
selves, and  remained  thus  for  a  long  time 
in  utter  silence, 

"  You  saw  my  meeting  with — with  that 
— joung  lady,"  said  Brooke,  at  last.  "Did 
you  understand  who  it  was  ?  It  was — Do- 
lores." 

"  I  know,"  said  Talbot,  with  a  heavy 
sigh.  "And  did  you  observe  my  meeting 
with  that  gentleman?  Did  you  understand 
that?" 

"  What  1"  cried  Brooke,  in  amazement 
at  the  suggestion  which  was  conveyed  by 
Talbot's  words.  He  had  not  had  leisure  to 
notice  or  think  of  any  one  except  Dolores. 

"It  was  Mr.  Rivers,"  said  Talbot. 

"  The  devil !"  cried  Brooke,  with  a 
groan. 

At  this  Talbot  very  properly  said  noth- 
ing. 

"Well,"  said  Brooke,  after  a  long  pause, 
"  I  didn't  know  that  things  could  possibly 
be  more  infernally  embarrassing  or  more 
confoundedly  complicated  than  they  were; 
but  this  is  certainly  a  little  beyond  what  I 
dreamed  of.    And — and — " 

He  turned  with  a  despairing  look  and 
took  Talbot's  hand. 

"  Wliat,  Brooke  ?" 

"  Am — am  I — to — to — congratulate  you 
— and  all  that  ?"  he  stammered. 

"  What !"  said  Talljot,  reproachfully. 

BrooKC  was  silent. 

"  Oh,  Brooke,"  said  Talbot,  "  what  are 
we  to  do?" 

"  Give  it  up,"  said  Brooke,  in  a  dismal 
voice. 


170 


A  CA8TIE  IN  SPAIN. 


"  Tills,"  continued  Talbot,  "  is  worse 
tlmn  wlicn  wc  were  prisoners,  and  dyinj^ 
by  turns  for  one  anotlier." 

"  I  wish,"  said  Uroolie,  "  tiiat  I  liad  died 
wlicn  I  wanted  to." 

"And  must  we  now  give  one  auotlicr 
u])  ?■'  sigiied  Talbot. 

"  Don't  see  what  else  we  can  do,"  said 
Brooke.  "We've  got  to  keep  our  con- 
founded promises." 

"  Which  promises,  Brooke  ?" 

"  I  don't  know." 

"  Brooke !" 

"  What  ?" 

♦'  What  ought  I  to  do  ?" 

"  I  don't  know." 

"  Ought  I  to  keep  my  2)romise  ?" 

"  Which  promise  ?"' 

"  WMiy,  my  promise  to — to  Mr.  Rivers." 

"D— n  Mr.  Rivers!''  growled  Brooke, 
turning  away. 

"That,"  said  Talbot,  mildly,  "is  not  an 
answer  to  my  question." 

"  But  how  do  I  know  ?"  said  Brooke,  in 
a  voice  like  a  wailing  child. 

"But  how  can  I?  how  can  I?"  cried 
Talbot.  "  And  when  you  are  here  —  you, 
Brooke,  who  know  all  my  heart !  Can  I 
give  you  up?  I  cannot!  You  may  give 
me  up,  if  you  like." 

"Why  don't  you  say,  if  I  can?"'  said 
Brooke. 

"Oh — any  way,"  said  Talbot,  wearily. 

There  was  another  silence. 

"Marry  /(/m.'"  cried  Talbot,  at  last, 
breaking  tlic  silence  with  vehement  ab- 
ruptness. "  I  cannot !  I  cannot !  It  would 
be  wicked.  I  should  dcsccnite  the  holy 
sacrament.  I  could  not  utter  that  vow  be- 
fore the  holy  altar.  Never !  Yet  I  can't 
stay  here  where  he  is.  He  will  be  wishing 
to  see  me.  He  will  be  coming  soon — he 
may  be  coming  now.  I  will  not  see  him. 
I  will  not  speak  with  him  again.  I  will 
write  to  liini.  I  will  leave  this  place,  and 
at  once." 

"Leave  this  place!"  repeated  Brooke. 
"  Where  can  you  go  ?" 

"  Why,  I'll  go  home,"  said  Talbot,  firmly. 

"  Home  ?" 

"  Yes." 

"  How  can  you  ?  You  don't  know  the 
way." 

"  I  know  one  place  where  I  can  go— to 
that  tower — that  sweet  tower;  it  is  not  far 
away ;  it  must  be  easy  to  get  there.  I  will 
go  there — there,  Brooke,  where  I  first  be- 
came acquainted  with  you ;  and  then — " 


Here  Talbot  paused,  and  turned  away 
her  head. 

"But  you  can't  live  there,"  said  Brooke, 
in  a  harsh  voice. 

"I  can  find  my  way  back  to  the  road," 
said  Talbot,  in  a  tremulous  tone — "to  the 
road  wliere  I  first  met  you,  Brooke;  and 
then  —  why,  then  I  shall  be  no  worse  ofi' 
than  when  you  found  me  and  assisted  me." 

"It's  all  nonsense,"  said  Brooke;  "you 
can't  go  alone." 

"  Yes,  I  can." 

"  You'll  be  taken  prisoner." 

"  I  don't  care." 

"Or,  if  not,  you'll  die  of  starvation." 

"  Very  well,"  said  Talbot,  in  a  calm  voice, 
and  looking  at  Brooke  out  of  serene  eyes, 
with  a  face  from  which  all  traces  of  emo- 
tion had  departed  —  "very  well;  I  have 
already  showed  that  I  am  not  afraid  of 
death;  and  death  by  starvation  is  not  more 
terrible  than  death  by  liuliets." 

Brooke  looked  at  her  for  a  moment  in 
silence,  and  then  said, 

"  You  are  not  in  earnest  ?" 

"I  am  in  earnest,"  said  Talbot,  looking 
at  him  fixedly,  and  speaking  in  a  resolute 
tone — "  I  am  in  earnest,  and  I  mean  to  go 
this  very  night." 

Brooke  looked  away,  drew  a  long  breath, 
and  subsided  into  silence. 

"How  can  j'ou  find  the  way?"  he  asked 
at  length,  in  a  gruft'  voice,  and  M'ithout 
looking  up. 

"I  don't  know,"  said  Talbot;  "I  can  try 
again,  as  I  tried  before." 

Brooke  looked  up  hastily,  then  looked 
away,  and  finally  said, 

"I  think,  Talbot,  you  might  ask  me  to 
show  you  the  way." 

At  this  Talbot's  face  flushed,  and  all 
her  expression  was  suddenly  changed  from 
one  of  dull  dejection  to  animation  and 
delight. 

"  AVill  you  ?"  she  asked,  breathlessly. 

"Oh  yes,"  said  Brooke,  "that  isn't  much 
to  do.  Oh  yes,  I  can  easily  show  you  the 
way  lO  the  tower.  After  all,  it  is  as  safe 
there  as  here;  and  if  you  are  determined 
to  go,  why,  we  can  start,  you  know — at  any 
time,  you  know." 

"But  will  you — can  you — will  you,  real- 
ly?" said  Talbot,  who  seemed  quite  over- 
whelmed at  this  unexpected  oft'er.  "  Then 
you  have  your  human  weakness,  after  all, 
have  you,  Brooke  ?  You  will  not  sacrifice 
me  to  a  punctilio,  will  you  ?  you  will  not 
let  your  poor  Talbot  go  away  all  alone  ?' 


s 


o 

V! 

a 
o 
is 


n 

P! 


A  CASTLE  IN  SPAIN. 


171 


"  No,"  sukl  Brooke,  softly,  "  I  will  not 
let  my  Talbot  go  away  all  alone." 

Talljot  cast  a  swift  glanco  at  him,  as  if 
to  read  liis  soul.  Brooke's  eye  met  hers, 
but  only  for  an  instant.  Then  he  looked 
awiiy.  Again  there  was  quick  and  active 
within  him  that  old  vigilant  feeling  that 
kept  him  on  guard  .\gainst  beiug  surprised 
and  overpowered  by  passion.  Within  his 
heart  there  had  already  been  a  fierce  strug- 
gle between  love  and  honor.  Love  had 
once  conquered,  and  that  completely;  but 
the  appearance  of  Dolores  had  roused  his 
conscience,  and  made  him  once  more  aware 
of  the  bund  that  lay  in  his  plighted  word. 
Could  he  again  break  that  word  ?  Could 
he  sacrifice  his  honor  for  gooel  almost  in 
the  very  presence  of  her  whom  he  supposed 
to  be  his  loving  and  faithful  Dolores? 
Could  he  do  such  a  deed  as  this,  and  sully 
his  soul  even  for  Talbot?  Yet,  on  the  oth- 
er hand,  how  could  he  brijig  himself  to 
give  her  up?  Give  her  up — the  "lad  Tal- 
bot," whom  he  loved  as  he  had  never  loved 
any  other  human  being  !  How  could  he  ? 
And  thus  lovo  drew  him  imi)etuously  in 
one  direction,  while  duty  sternly  and  im- 
periou.sly  drove  him  back ;  ami  so  there 
went  on  in  the  breast  of  this  newspaper 
correspondent  a  struggle  the  like  of  which 
does  not  often  come  within  the  experience 
of  gentlemen  of  the  press. 

"  You  will  see  me  as  far  as  the  tower  ?" 
said  Talbot,  patheticallj\ 

"Yes,"  murmured  Brooke. 

"And  there,"  continued  Talbot,  in  the 
same  tone,  "  we  can  say  to  one  another  our 
last  farewells." 

Brooke  said  nothing.  The  struggle  still 
raged  within  him,  and  was  as  far  from  a 
decisive  end  as  ever.  The  prospect  of 
parting  with  Talbot  filled  him  with  a  sense 
of  horrible  desolation,  and  the  one  idea 
now  in  his  mind  was  that  of  accompanying 
her  wherever  she  might  go.  He  did  not 
look  far  into  the  future.  His  plans  were 
bounded  by  that  tower  to  which  Talbot 
was  going.  This  much  he  might  do  with- 
out any  hesitation.  It  seemed  to  him  no 
more  than  Talbot's  due.  She  only  wanted 
to  go  as  far  as  that.  She  wished  to  be 
out  of  the  reach  of  Rivers,  She  didn't 
know  the  way  there.  He  could  certainly 
help  her  thus  far;  in  fact,  it  would  be  im- 
possible for  him  not  to  do  that  much.  If 
Dolores  herself  were  present,  he  thought, 
she  could  not  object ;  in  fact,  she  could  do 
nothing  else  but  approve. 


Silence  now  followed,  wliich  lasted  for 
some  lime,  and  at  length  Talbot  said,  with 
u  heavy  sigh, 

'■  How  strange  it  is,  and  how  sad  I  isn't 
it,  Brooke  V 

"  What  ?"  said  Brooke. 

" To  bid  good-l)ye." 

Brooke  was  silent. 

"To  bid  good-bye,"  repeated  Talbot, 
"  and  never  meet  again  !" 

Brooke  drew  a  long  breath,  looked  at 
Talbot,  and  then  looked  away. 

"  Shall  we,  Brooke  ?"  asked  Talbot. 

"  Shall  we  what  ?"  said  Brooke,  harshly. 

"  Shall  we  ever  meet  again  ?" 

"  How  do  I  know  ?"  said  Brooke,  snap- 
I)ishly. 

"And  yet  you  gave  your  life  for  me," 
said  Talijot,  pensively. 

"I  didn't,"  said  Brooke.  "It  was  you 
that  gave  your  life  for  me." 

"The  otl'er  was  made,"  said  Talbot, 
mournfully,  "  but  it  wasn't  accepted.  I 
wish  now  that  the  offer  had  been  accept- 
ed." 

Brooke  raised  his  head  and  looked  at 
her  with  his  pale,  haggard  face,  whereon 
was  still  the  impression  of  that  great  ago- 
ny through  which  he  had  so  lately  pa.ssed. 
Ho  looked  at  her  with  all  his  unspeakable 
love  in  his  earnest,  yearning  gaze. 

"  Do  you  really  wish  that,  Talbot?" 

"  I  do,"  said  she,  sadly. 

"  Oh,  my  darling  !''  cried  Brooke — "  my 
own  love,  and  my  only  love  I  What  shall  I 
do  ?     Help  me  to  decide." 

He  caught  her  in  his  arms  and  held  hrr 
pres-scd  convulsively  to  his  heart,  whiic 
Tall)ot  laid  her  head  on  his  shoulder  and 
wept. 

At  length  tliey  rose  to  go. 

Brooke  was  conscious  of  a  sense  of  pro- 
found relief  as  he  went  out  of  the  castle 
and  away  from  Dolores. 

On  reaching  the  gate,  Brooke  explained 
to  the  guard  that  he  and  the  lady  were 
going  out  for  a  little  walk. 

The  guard  suggested  that  there  might 
be  danger. 

Brooke  said  that  he  was  not  going  far 
away,  and  that  he  would  be  back.  In  this 
he  was  not  deceiving  them,  for  he  himself 
thought  that  he  would  be  coming  back 
again.  He  had  a  vague  idea  of  keeping 
Talbot  in  the  tower,  and  conveying  l>er 
food,  etc.,  from  the  castle,  as  be  had  done 
once  before. 


172 


A  CASTLE  IN  SPAIN. 


lie  now  passed  through  tho  sntes,  nc- 
coiiipimicil  hy  Tiilbot.  'I'lie  course  wliich 
he  took  was  the  siiine  that  lie  had  taken 
on  tlie  occasion  of  liis  first  visit  to  the  Car- 
lists  in  his  (lisfjiiise  of  priest.  After  walk- 
ing for  some  distance  tiiey  (iesren(h;d  into 
the  chasm,  and  at  length  reached  the  bot- 
tom. By  this  time  it  was  dusk,  and  twi- 
liglit  was  coining  on  rapidly. 

They  tlicn  Ingan  the  ascent,  and  readied 
the  tower  witiiout  any  difficulty. 

Here  they  paused  to  take  breath. 

But  no  sooner  had  they  stood  still  than 
they  were  aware  of  a  noise  witiiout.  It 
was  a  noise  rather  distant,  yet  well  defined, 
and  sound(!d  as  if  a  multitude  were  ap- 
proaching the  place. 

"Some  one's  coming,"  said  \      -ot. 

"  Yes,"  said  Brooke  ;  "  we  must  go  back." 

They  hurried  back.  But  as  they  stood 
at  the  opening  they  heard  something  which 
once  more  startled  them. 

There  were  voices  and  footsteps  down 
the  chasm,  as  of  some  one  coming  up  the 
pathway. 

"  We  are  pursued  !"  said  Brooke. 

"Wc  arc  captured!"  said  Talbot;  and 
then  she  added,  as  she  took  Brooke's  hands 
in  hers,  '•but  oh,  Biooke,  how  I  should 
love  to  be  captured,  if  you  are  only  cap- 
tured with  me !" 

Brooke  said  nothing,  but  a  thrill  of  joy 
passed  through  him  at  the  thought. 


CHAPTER  LV)II. 

IN  WHICH  SOME  OLD  FRIENDS  REAPrF.AIl. 

Dolores  and  Ashby  had  cxperiencod 
none  of  that  inner  conflict  that  had  disturlj- 
cd  the  souls  ot  Brooke  and  Talbot,  for  Ash- 
by  had  been  prompt  in  decision,  and  had 
taken  all  responsioility  from  Dolores.  She 
meekly  acquiesced  in  his  decision,  Avas  all 
the  happier  for  it,  and  prepared  witli  the 
briskness  of  a  bird  to  carry  out  their  pur- 
pose of  flight.  She  led  Ashby  down  by 
the  same  way  through  whicli  she  had  for- 
merly conducted  "  His  Majesty,"  starting 
from  that  lower  room  in  which  Ashby  had 
been  confined.  Had  she  gone  from  one  of 
the  upper  rooms,  they  might,  perhaps,  have 
encountered  the  lurking  Rita,  and  thus 
have  rescued  the  unhappy  Russell  from  his 
vengeful  captor  and  from  his  coming  woe. 
But  such  was  not  to  be  their  lot.  It  was 
from  the  lower  room  that  they  started ;  and 


on  they  went,  to  the  no  mnall  amazement 
of  Aslil'v,  through  all  those  intricate  ways, 
until  at  length  they  emergiid  from  the  in- 
terior, and  found  themselves  in  the  chasm. 
Here  the  moon  was  shining,  as  it  had  Ijcen 
during  all  the  eventful  days  in  which 
all  these  woiulerful  and  authentic  advent- 
ures had  been  taking  place,  and  gave  them 
ample  light  by  which  to  find  the  path. 
Their  way  lay  along  the  lower  purt  of  the 
chasm,  where  the  brook  was  foaming  and 
i)ul)bling  and  dashing  on  its  way.  Before 
long  they  reached  the  place  where  the  path 
ascended  toward  the  tower.  Up  this  they 
proceeded. 

As  they  went  up  they  heard  voices.  Thus 
far  they  had  been  talking  with  one  anoth- 
er (piite  merrily  and  carelessly,  but  these 
sounds  at  once  arrested  them.  They  stop- 
ped for  a  moment  and  listened  in  deep 
an.xiety. 

The  sound  of  the  voices  seemed  to  draw 
nearer,  and  to  come  up  from  some  point  in 
the  pathway  behind  them,  as  though  oth- 
ers were  advancing  in  the  same  direc- 
tion. 

"  We  are  pursued,"  said  Dolores. 

"  Who  would  pursue  us  ?"  said  Ashby. 

"Mr.  Brooke,"  said  Dolores,  in  a  tone  of 
alarm.  "  It  must  be  Mr.  Brooke.  He  1ms 
been  looking  for  me.  He  has  seen  us,  and 
is  pursuing  us." 

Ashl)y  muttered  a  curse, 

"  Confound  him !"  said  he.  "  Let  him 
keep  his  di.'itancel  We  must  hurry  on 
faster." 

They  hurried  on. 

In  a  few  moments  they  had  reached  the 
tower.  Inside  that  tower  were  Brooke  and 
Talbot,  who  had  reached  it  some  time  be- 
fore, and  now  heard  the  sounds  made  by 
these  new-comers,  though  the  darkness  of 
the  interior  preveated  them  from  seeing 
who  tiiey  were.  On  entering,  Dolores  drew 
Ashi)y  carefully  on  one  side.  Brooke  and 
Talbot  waited  in  breathless  suspense. 

But  now  other  sounds  startled  the  oc- 
cupants of  the  tower — the  sounds  as  of  an 
advancing  crowd.  Dolores  clung  in  terror 
to  Ashby,  and  drew  him  still  farther  on 
one  side. 

They  were  caught  —  that  was  plain. 
They  could  neither  advance  nor  retreat; 
for  now  already  they  heard  new-comers  at 
the  opening  through  -which  they  had  just 
passed.  Tliey  shrank  back  still  farther, 
and  Dolores  clung  more  closely  to  Ashby. 

These   new-comers,   however,  were   not 


A  CA8TLK  IN  Sl'AlN. 


17:i 


very  formidable.  They  were  merely  Hurry 
niul  Kiltie. 

Hurry  iuul  waited  for  some  time  in  cx- 
pectiition  of  liein^'  joined  l)y  Uussell.  To 
IiIm  surprise,  tlitit  wortiiy  perHon  did  not 
put  in  !in  iip|)euriuice.  JIcs  could  not  iie- 
eount  for  tiiis,  and  tinally  eoneluded  tiiat 
Uussell  mu8t  imvo  ^ono  ahe:ul,  so  as  to 
take  liis  time  aliout  it  and  save  li'mself  liy 
daylii,dit.  In  tiiis  belief  Harry  resolved  to 
delay  no  lonj^cr,  and,  conj^ratulatinj?  him- 
self that  he  knew  the  way  so  well,  he 
started  off  with  Katie. 

Ho  went  with  all  the  raution  in  the 
world,  first  reconnoitring^  to  sec  that  no  one 
was  within  view,  and  then,  on  reaching  tiie 
side  door  which  f^nivc  entrance  to  the  cel- 
lars, ho  cautioned  Katie  to  keep  silence. 
In  this  way  they  went  on  silently  enouifh 
until  they  cmergetl  from  the  opcnin;'. 
Then  they  bei^an  to  descend  tiic  cha^m, 
and  here  Harry  felt  safe.  On  their  wi.y 
down  and  up  they  talked  and  la\i^hed 
quite  freely,  and  these  were  the  voices 
which  had  startled  their  predecessors. 

At  leniftii  they  reached  the  tower  and 
clambered  in.  The  moment  they  found 
themselves  inside  they  ■were  startled  by 
those  noi.se3  which  had  already  terrified 
the  others,  and  which  hud  now  drawn 
much  nearer, 

Katie  pave  a  low  cry  of  terror,  and  stood 
treml)ling  in  every  limb. 

Harry  was  quite  bewildered  at  this  sud- 
den and  unexpected  shock.  For  a  mo- 
ment he  thouj-ht  of  tliijlit;  Init  that  was 
impos8ii)lc,  for  Katie,  in  her  terror,  was  al- 
most faintinjT,  and  he  had  to  support  her 
while  she  clung  breathlessly  to  him.  And 
so  they  stood,  unable  to  move. 

The  noises  were  now  just  outside  — 
voices,  cries,  songs,  and  wild  laughter — all 
the  indications  of  a  lawless  crowtl. 

Suddenly  some  one  burst  inside. 

"  Ha !"  he  cried,  in  Spanish,  "  here  it  is, 
but  it's  all  dark.  Bring  lights,  some  one. 
We  must  wait  here  till  the  others  come 
round  to  the  front ;  but  there's  no  reason 
why  we  shouldn't  have  lights.  We  ca-  't 
l)c  seen  from  the  castle  :  the  walls  here  arc 
too  thick  to  be  transparent.  It's  just  the 
place  for  a  little  supper." 

A  number  of  others  now  came  forward 
and  entered.  The  fugitives  stood  clinging 
to  one  another  as  before,  expecting  the 
worst,  and  awaiting  with  intense  anxiety 
the  moment  when  lights  would  be  intro- 
duced. 


There  wis  now  the  flash  of  sudden  flames 
—  some  of  them  were  striking  matches. 
The  flames  leaped  forth,  and  soon  half  a 
dozen  torches  were  kindled,  ami  then, 
blazing  and  smoking,  they  were  held  aloft, 
throwing  a  bright  light  upon  the  whole  in- 
terior; wliilt!  those  who  held  them  looked 
around  without  any  other  purpo.se,  just 
then,  than  to  And  some  convenient  place 
w  hen:  they  might  place  them,  so  as  to  save 
themselves  the  troui)le  of  holding  them. 

In  that  one  instant  the  whole  scene  stood 
revealed. 

There  stood  Hrooke,  with  Talbot  clinging 
to  him;  there  Harry,  with  his  arms  round 
Katie;  and  there  Asliby,  f'upporting  Do- 
lores. And  as  Ashby  and  Harry  stared  at 
these  noisy  new-comers,  they  saw  the  fa- 
milian  face  of  no  less  u  person  than  "  His 
?,r'iiesty." 

At  this  sight  they  were  filled  with  amaze- 
ment and  consternation.  Yet  their  amaze- 
ment, great  though  it  may  have  been,  was 
not  greater  than  that  of  '"  His  Majestj'." 
For  an  instant  ho  stood  like  one  transfixed, 
and  then  exclaimed,  in  that  i)eeuliar  Eng- 
lish which  he  spoke, 

"Ilowly  Moses!  but  this  bates  tli(! 
worruld !"  and  then  stood  staring  at  .'acli 
of  them. 

At  this  exclamation  Katie  started.  She 
recognized  the  voice  at  once  ;  and,  strange 
to  say,  all  her  terror  fled.  From  that  man 
she  felt  as  if  there  was  no'!iing  to  fear. 
She  looked  up,  and  showed  her  sweet  face 
all  smiles,  with  all  its  anxiety  and  all  its 
terror  vanished.  Dolores  also  heard  the 
English  words,  and  looked  up  in  surprise, 
recognizing  at  the  first  glance  that  familiar 
face.  Harry  and  Ashby  made  the  same 
discovery. 

But  there  were  other  discoveries  to  be 
made.  Their  eyes,  as  the  liglits  shone 
around,  took  in  the  whole  scene;  and  it 
was  with  the  deepest  dismay  and  confusion 
that,  on  looking  around,  each  one  caught 
sight  of  his,  or  her,  old  lover ;  and,  what 
was  more,  the  feeling  of  each  one  was,  that 
the  other  had  come  in  pursuit,  to  claim  that 
vow  which  each  was  breaking. 

Harry  saw  Talbot,  and  felt  sure  that  she 
had  come  after  him  to  demand  a  new  ex- 
planation, and  to  reproach  him  for  this 
new  perfidy.  She  had  suffered,  he  felt, 
wrongs  that  were  intolerable  at  his  hands, 
and  his  heart  sank  within  liim  at  this  new 
meeting.  He  seemed  to  himself  base  be- 
yond all  expression,  and  no  words  could 


174 


A  CAiSTLli  IN  ai'AlN. 


1)0  louiiil  willi  wliioli  l»o  luigli^.  cxcuso  liiiti- 
seir. 

nroDkr  saw  Dolores,  iiml  Iiih  only  Miontflit 
was  ( lial  sill'  liaii  siispci'icd  him,  liad  watcli- 
ud  liiin,  liad  tnu-ked  liiiii,  iind  liiid  now 
coiiu"  (o  ovcrwlu'liu  liiin  with  dislionor; 
and  he  li'll.  that.  Iki  n\ii.s(,  be  diiiuli  luloic 
licr. 

Aslihy  Haw  Katie,  and  thonjjjht  that  h!ic 
had  surely  e mie  in  pursuit  of  iiini ;  lli.'it 
perhaps  iiis  siispieioiis  liad  been  unlbimd- 
ed  ;  that  she  loved  him;  that-  she  had  only 
been  trilliiiL;  with  Harry,  and  hc.d  come  to 
tear  him  from  Dolores. 

Talbot  saw  Harry  with  {^nilly  terror. 
She  !itid  tied  froi.i  him,  and  intentionally. 
Me  had  pursued;  he  had  eomo  to  claim 
lier  hand-  her  promi.seii  hand! 

Dolores  saw  IJrooko  with  tiic  Siimo  Iccl- 
ings.  She  knew  liim  as  the  ehivalrous 
Ameriean  who  had  saved  her  life,  and  that 
of  her  mother,  in  their  direst  need;  who 
had  won  her  heart  and  the  i)romise  of  her 
hiuid.  She  had  broken  her  W(U'd  -she  had 
Hod.  Wiiat  now  ^  With  what  eyes  could 
she  look  a(  hin\  t  With  what  words  co  '1 1 
she  s|)eak  to  him  ? 

Katie's  face  liail  'iuhtoncd  up  with  joy 
at  the  sinht  of"  His  Majesty,"  but  the  mo- 
r.ient  afterward  it  clouded  over  with  fear 
!vnd  ii,(j..'eheusion  at  the  siij;ht  of  Ashl)y. 
'•  "Tis  conscience  doth  make  cowards  of 
\is  all,"  and  conseienco  told  her  that  she 
had  treated  Ashby  very,  very  badly,  and 
that  he  had  fidlowcd  her  to  make  lier  keep 
her  pligiited  wcuil.  And  so  she  only  cluni,' 
to  Harry  mere  closely  than  ever. 

And  so,  in  fact,  did  ihe  other  coujiles. 
They  all  chine:  to  one  another  more  closely 
than  ever.  There  was  a  nionuMit  of  embar- 
rassmcut — intense,  awfid,  tremeiulous. 

Tiio  deep  silence  was  broken  by  the 
voice  of"  His  Majesty." 

"HcrsiUT'  he  cried,  with  liis  cyca  tlxed 
on  Katie  —  "hersilfl  besiorm,  it's  hcrsilfl 
81'Vn"'^  an'  il  is!  an'  oh, but  it's  mcsilf  that's 
the  lucky  man  this  day !  Au'  share,  an' 
may  I  dhrop  dead  if  I  ivcr  saw  sich  a 
maytinj:  as  this  !  Slmre,  yc'vc  forgotten  all 
about  my  olVer  av  the  crown  av  Spain,  an' 
tlio  sceptre,  an'  the  tlirouo.  Bcgorra,  yc'vc 
pivon  up  all  that  same  for  that  bit  av  a 
boy  that's  a  liowldin'  av  yc.  An'  shure, 
we're  all  together  again,  so  wc  are.  Here's 
welcome  to  yez  all — Jlcssrs.  Kivcrs,  an' 
Ashby.  an'  the  ladies,  one  an'  all  I  Niver 
fear,  I'll  take  good  caro  av  yez  this  toime ! 
Only,  what's  become  av  Lord  Russell  ?    Be 


gorra,  it's  niesiiftliut  'ud  loike  to  liuvo  nn- 
olher  look  at  that  Hanie!" 

Talking  in  thi.s  way,  with  fretpicnl 
l)auses,  "His  Majesty"  HUeceedeil  in  ex- 
pressing ids  feelings,  which  had  at  llrst 
seemed  (pnte  too  strong  for  utterance. 

Meanwhile,  th(!  sohliers  wlio  had  Iteen 
impeeting  the  interior  had  Ibimd  conven- 
ient places  for  lixing  the  torches,  which 
now  llared  up,  tiirowing  a  jiright  ligiil 
around,  and  lilling  thc!  tower  with  smoke. 

During  all  this  tiim^  the  |>risom'rs  had 
been  agitated  by  various  feelings.  Harry 
and  Ashby  saw  in  "His  >bijesty  '"  a  remorse- 
less brigand,  whose  only  idea  was  plunder, 
and  who  would  now  hold  them  to  ransom 
as  befo'.'e.  They  despa-reil  of  esca])e.  'I'his 
ni^w  capture  secuual  far  worse  than  the 
former  oiu*,  yet  eacli  one  thought  less  of 
himself  than  of  that  dear  one  whom  he 
Iwul  tri("d  to  save.  Thus  Harry  clung  to 
Katie,  and  Ashby  clung  to  J)()lores,  more 
closely  than  ever,  .{rooke  and  'I'albot,  on 
the  contrary,  liad  less  fear,  yet  they  ha<l 
anxiety.  Brooke  recognized  in  "His  3Iaj- 
csty"  the  unscrupulous  Ciuiisl  whom  he 
had  visited,  and  was  somewhat  uneasy 
about  a  recognition;  while  Talbot,  seeing 
his  uneasincs.s,  i'elt  souiething  like  fear  lier- 
self. 

Yet,  in  the  midst  of  all  this,  (hey  all  alike 
made  one  discovery.  It  was  this:  each 
one  saw  that  his  tir  her  old  love  had  be- 
con\e  strangely  indilVi  rent. 

Harry  saw  that  Talbot  was  clinging  to 
that  strange  man  whom  lu;  iiad  never  seen 
before,  but  who  now,  as  he  thought,  seem- 
ed uneomnu)nly  sweet  on  her. 

Brooke  saw  thr.t.  Dolores  was  clinging 
for  sui>port  to  another  strange  num.  She 
had  evidently  no  thought  for  him. 

Ashi)y  saw  at  once  that  Katie  thought 
of  no  one  l)Ut  Harry  Hivers. 

Talbot  S!'-v  that  Harry  was  devoted  to 
that  lady  whom  he  was  so  assiduously  suj)- 
porting  and  C(Uisoling.  She  was  utterly 
amazed  at  the  discovery,  yet  inexpressibly 
glad. 

Dolores,  in  her  deliglit,  saw  tliat  Brooke 
took  no  notice  of  herself,  but  devoted  him- 
self to  tho  lady  with  him,  and  in  such  a 
fervent  manner  that  she  understood  it  all 
without  being  told. 

Katie  also  saw  that  Ashby  had  forgotten 
all  about  her,  and  thought  of  nothing  but 
Dolores. 

And  at  this  discovery,  which  flpslicd  al- 
most simultaneously  upon  diem,  each  one 


A  CASTLK  IN  SPA  IN. 


175 


fiilt  tli(!  most,  iiu'X])icHsil>l(>  j(iy.  At  tlii^ 
!«tiiuo  tinu)  tilt'  wliolo  trutli  ciiinr  ii|)<>n 
tlt(!iii.  I'liu'li  one,  iiiHtcjul  (if  |iursiiin}^  tlir 
Otluif,  liiul  li('i:n  tryiii;;  t(i  lly.  Kiicli  hivrr 
liiid  luiuiil  II  new  itiid  iiKin;  coDi^cniiil 
I'ricnd,  iiml  willi  tliis  ilciir  IVicnil  liud  iit'l 
tlu)  ciistlc.  lOiicli  OIK!  'I'lt  L'(iii;dly  f^nilty, 
yvt  (Minally  ^diid  ;  Imt  tlieii  im  to  ^iiilt, 
tlicro  wan  Irnokc,  wIid  didn't  IVcI  f,niilly 
nt  all  —  oil,  lilcss  yiiii,  iid!— In;  liad  only 
comn  witli  Tulliot  an  fur  itn  the  toinr! 

Ill  llic  iiiidHt  (>r  ail  this,  Harry  and  AhIi- 
l>y  and  HikdUi!  wcris  "iiiazcd  at  \hc  Iiisii 
l»r(i;i\i(!  (»r  tli(i  Oarlist  vWu'A',  who  had  tor- 
iiicrly  spoken  (o  tlit'in  in  S]mnisli. 

And  now,  wliihi  they  wen!  (hiis  won- 
dering;, who  Hhoiild  coiuo  in  Imt  a  eerlain 
leinali!  in  ii  ver"  peculiar  dress;  lor  this 
fenial(!  wore  what  looked  like  a  niiiita- 
ry  cloak,  and  sho  wore,  also,  an  olHeer's 
"ke])i,"  -.vliieli  was  perched  upon  I  Ik;  lop 
of  her  chimion ;  which  leniiih!  took  a 
<,danee  around,  and  then  exc^laiiiied, 

"  Well,  goodness  f,'raeious  me  I  I  never ! 
Did  I  ever!     No,  never  1" 

"Aunliel"  srreamed  Katie,  and  with 
this  she  rushed  toward  tlit!  aforesaid  fe- 
male, who  was  no  other  than  Mrs.  Hiis  ■  11. 
Mho  linn;;  her  arms  arouiul  that  lady,  and 
almost  smothered  '.ler  with  kisses. 

"Dear  <;hild,"  said  Mrs.  Russell,  "how 
impetuous  you  ant!  liut  it's  natural  —  it's 
toueiiiuii:  —  it's  j^rateful  —  wc  deserve  it, 
dear.  W(!  ramc  to  seek  and  lo  sivvc.  Uless 
you,  my  child,  and  may  you  Ik;  liappy ! 
"His  Majesty"  has  a  tender  heart,  and 
-)fte!i  talks  of  you.  Wo  also  cherish  fer 
you  a  fond  iitrection,  child;  hut  in  fut'ire 
try  to  lie  a  little  less  lioisterous,  and  respect 
the  majesty  of  Spain." 

At  tills  reception  Katie  was  (]uilo  hewil- 
dercd.  It  was  only  liy  a  stroni;  elVort  that 
she  couk'  compntliend  \*-.  Hhc  then  re- 
called that  old  nonsense  with  which  she 
had  amused  herself  when  she  had  sujrffcst- 
ed  that  Mrs.  Uussell  should  marry  "His 
Majesty;"  liut  now  a  great  terror  sei' ed 
lier:  was  it  possihlo  that  Mrs.  Russell  had 
done  such  a  thing  ? 

"Oh,  Auntie!"  she  said;  "oh,  Auntie! 
you  haven't  —  you  hiweu't  —  done  —  done 
it?" 

"Done  it !"  said  Mrs.  Russell,  who  seem- 
ed at  onco  to  understand  her;  "no,  child 
— not  yet ;  tnit  as  soon  as  the  aft'airs  of 
State  will  allow,  "His  Majesty"  says  that 
the  ceremony  shall  bo  performed;  after 
which  comes  the  coronation,  you  know, 
12 


and  then,  dear,  I  shall  Ih!  Queen,  and  you 
iniiy  lie  piincess,  and  may  marry  the  priud- 
cst  of  all  the  Spanish  chivalry." 

At  this  Katie  was  so  terrilied  that  she 
did  not  know  what  to  say.  The  only 
thought  she  had  was  that  "Auntie"  had 
gone  raving  mad.  She  knew  that  .Mr.  Rus- 
sell was  alive  and  well,  for  she  had  seen 
him  only  a  sliovt  ti'iie  hefore.  The  old  joke 
alioiit  marrying  "His  Majesty"  had  lieen 
almost  forgotten  hy  her;  and  to  find 
"Auntie"  now  as  full  as  ever  of  that  non- 
si'iisical  pictH:  of  iiinhilion  was  iiuj.vpi-ssi- 
hly  Bhoeking  to  her.  Yet  she  did  not 
know  what  to  say.  To  disalmse  her  seem- 
eil  iiiipoHsil)  (!.  She  did  not  dan;  to  tell 
her  that  Mr.  Russell  was  alive  ;  it  might  be 
dangerous.  "  Auiiti(!"  had  so  .set  her  mind 
upon  this  insane  project  that  any  attempt 
to  thwart  her  would  certainly  draw  down 
vcngeaiici!  upon  the  heiul  of  the  one  who 
shoulil  dare  to  alteinpt  it.  That  one  cer- 
tainly was  not  Katie.  Slu!  liked,  as  far  as 
possible,  to  have  tilings  move  on  smoothly 
around  her;  and  so  tin;  only  thought  sIk; 
iKiw  had  was  to  cliinu!  in  with  "Aiintio's" 
fancy ;  to  humor  her,  as  oik;  would  humor 
an  insane  piTson,  and  to  hope-  that  some- 
thing might  turn  up  in  time  to  prevent 
anything  "  lireadfnl." 

In  this  state  of  mind  Katie  went  on  talk- 
ing with  "Auntie."  Hut  "Auntie"  was 
hard  to  humor;  she  was  altogetlutr  too 
grand  and  lofty  for  little  Katie.  In  fancy 
slu!  itlrea<Iy  wore  a  crown,  and  talkcid  of 
the  throne,  the  sceptre,  and  tlu;  majesty  of 
Spain  as  though  they  had  always  been  her 
private  projx-rty. 

"  I'vi!  been  two  or  three  days,"  said  she, 
"with  'His  Majesty.'  lie  has  been  most 
kind.  His  royal  will  is  that  I  should  wear 
this  hat.  Do  you  think  it  is  becoming? 
Under  otlier  circumstances  I  should  be 
talked  about,  I  know;  but  where  the  wel- 
fare of  Spain  is  concerned,  I  don't  care  for 
p<iblic  opinion.  When  I  am  seated  on  the 
throne  all  will  be  explained."' 

At  such  a  tort-ent  as  this  poor  Katie 
could  only  take  refuge  in  silence. 


CHAPTER   LIX. 

now  A  SURPRISE -PARTY   13   VKRY  MUCH   SCRPRISED. 

DrniNO  these  remarks  "His  Majesty" 
liad  been  fumbling,  with  a  thoughtful  ex- 
pression, in  his  coat-pocket,  as  though  try- 


170 


A  CASTLE  IN  SPAIN. 


ing  to  extricate  somcthinj.:,  the  bulk  of 
which  ijrevented  it  from  Ijcing  drawn  fortli 
without  some  difficulty  ;  aud  as  he  tugged 
and  fumbled  he  began  to  speak. 

"  I  came  licre,"  said  he,  "  on  a  suqirisc- 
party,  an'  begorra  I  nivcr  was  so  surprised 
in  my  loife,  so  I  wasn't.  An'  be  the  same 
token,  as  it's  a  long  march  we've  had,  an' 
as  we've  got  to  wait  here  an  hour  or  so,  an' 
as  we're  on  the  ave  av  an  attack  an'  may 
niver  live  to  see  another  day,  shurc  there's 
ivery  raisou  in  loifc" — aud  witli  this  lie 
fumbled  still  more  vigorously  in  his  pock- 
et— "  why  " — he  gave  a  thrust  aud  a  pull 
— "  why  we  should  all  wet  our  whistles  " 
— he  gave  a  series  of  violent  twists — "  wid 
a  diu'op  av  somcthin'  warrum ;"  and  with 
this  he  succeeded  in  getting  the  object  of 
his  attempts  extricated  from  his  pocket, 
and  proudly  displayed  before  the  eyes  of 
the  company  a  black  junk-bottle. 

The  otliers  looked  at  this  with  some 
surprise,  but  no  other  feeling.  The  wiiole 
proceeding  seemed  to  them  to  show  an  ill- 
timed  levity ;  and  if  it  was  serious,  it  cer- 
tainly seemed  very  bad  taste.  But  "  His 
Royal  Majesty"  was  in  a  very  gracious 
mood,  and  continued  to  run  on  in  his 
most  gay  and  affable  strain.  He  wandered 
round  among  the  company  and  offered  the 
l)ottlc  to  each  in  turn.  When  they  all  re- 
fused he  seemed  both  surprised  and  hurt. 

"  Shurc  it's  whiskey,  so  it  is,"  he  said,  as 
though  that  would  remove  all  objections ; 
but  tins  information  did  not  pro<^uce  any 
effect. 

"Perhaps  it's  a  tumbler  ye'll  be  want- 
in',"  said  he.  "  Well,  well,  we're  sori^  we 
haven't  got  one ;  but  if  ye'll  take  a  taste 
out  av  the  bottle  ye'li  foind  it  moighty 
convaynient." 

Here  the  monarch  paused,  and,  raising 
the  bottle  to  his  own  royal  lips,  took  a 
long  draught.  As  he  swallowed  the  liquid 
his  eyes  closed  and  his  face  assumed  an 
expression  of  rapture.  He  tlien  offered  it 
to  all  on'^e  more,  and  mourned  over  them 
because  they  refused. 

"  Oil,  but  it's  the  divoinc  dhrink !"  said 
he.  Then  he  grew  merrier,  and  began  to 
sing : 

"  Oh,  Shakspenre,  Homer,  an'  nil  the  poets 
Have  sung  for  ages  the  praise  nv  woiue ; 
But  if  they  Iver  had  taBtcd  whiskey, 
They'd  have  called  it  the  only  dhrink  divoinc. 

"  Oh,  wud  ye  have  a  receipt  for  toddy  f 
Av  whiskey  ye  take  a  quart,  I  think ; 
Thin  ont  nv  a  pint  av  bilin'  wnthcr 
Ivery  dhrop  ye  add  will  spile  the  dhrink  1" 


Ashby  had  been  talking  with  Dolores 
for  some  time.  He  now  came  forward,  Do- 
lores hanging  on  his  arm. 

"  Sir,"  said  he  to  "  His  Majesty,"  "  I  sup- 
jiosc  we  must  again  consider  ourselves  your 
prisoners  V 

"Divvle  a  doubt  av  it,"  said  "His  Maj- 
esty," with  a  wink  at  Dolores. 

"  Tiie  other  time,"  said  Ashby,  "you 
named  a  ransom,  and  said  that  on  the  pa^'- 
ment  of  tiiat  sum  you  would  allow  us  our 
lil^erty.  Will  you  now  name  a  sum  r  j;ain 
— some  sum  that  I  can  pay?  I  engi-gv.  to 
have  it  in  less  tiian  a  wceiv,  provided  that 
you  send  this  lady  iu  safety  to  Vittoria. 
SIic  can  procure  the  money  for  me,  and  un- 
til tiien  I  shall  remain  your  ])risoner." 

"  Well,  that's  fair,"  said  "  His  Majesty." 

"Will  you  do  it?" 

"  Begorra,  I  will." 

"  Will  you  name  the  sum  ?" 

"  I'll  think  aljout  it." 

At  this  Ashby  went  back  with  Dolores 
to  his  former  position,  and  they  resumed 
tiieir  conversation.  But  Harry  had  heard 
every  word,  and  he  now  came  up,  with 
Katie  clinging  to  him. 

"Sir,''  said  he,  "will  you  allow  me  to 
procure  my  ransom  in  the  same  way  ?  Will 
you  allow  this  lady  to  go  in  company  with 
tlie  other,  so  as  to  procure  the  amount 
needed  for  my  deliverance  ?" 

"  But  I  won't  go,"  said  Katie,  hurriedly. 

"What!"  said  Hariy,  "Oil,  think— it's 
lor  my  sake,  my  life." 

"But  I  can't,"  said  Katie.  "I  know  I 
shall  never  sec  you  again.  Besides,  wliat 
could  I  do  alone  ?" 

"  You  can  go  with  this  other  lady,  or 
with  your  aunt." 

"  Oh,  she  can't  go  with  me,"  said  Auntie. 
"Nothing  would  induce  me  to  leave  His 
Majesty.  The  royal  cause  is  just  now  in  a 
critical  condition,  and  we  need  all  our  re- 
sources." 

"  Then  you  can  go  with  the  Spanish 
scnorita,"  said  Harry. 

"But  I'm  iilVaid,"  said  Katie. 

"  Afraid  1"  said  Harry.  "  Wiiy,  there  will 
l)e  no  danger.  You  will  be  sent  with  a 
guard." 

"Oh,  it's  not  that— it's  not  that,"  said 
Katie ;  "  it's  because  I'm  afraid  I  shall 
never  see  you  again.  And  it's  cruel — very, 
very  cruel  in  you  !" 

At  this  "His  Majesty"  wiped  his  ejes. 
Then  1 .  raised  his  bottle  and  took  another 
long  pull.     Then  he  heaved  a  sigh. 


A  CASTLE  IN  SPAIN. 


177 


"Ariah,  yc  rogue,''  said  he  to  Harry, 
"ye'vc  deludhered  that  poor  gyerrul  iii- 
toirely.  Slie's  yours  out-an'-out — no  doubt 
av  that;  an'  sure  but  it's  dead  bate  au' 
heart-broke  intoirely  I'd  be,  so  I  wouUl,  if 
it  wasn't  for  the  widdy  here,  tiiafs  a  frind 
in  time  av  nade,  an'  has  a  licart  that's 
worth  its  weight  in  goold  sovereigns." 

"  His  Majesty "  now  took  another  long, 
long  pull  at  the  black  bottle. 

"  If  it  wasn't  that  I  had  that  otlicr  noble 
heart  til  fall  back  on,"  said  lie,  as  he  wiped 
his  royal  eyes  with  the  liack  of  his  royal 
hand,  "I'd  be  fairly  l)roken-]iearted,  so  I 
would.     But  I'll  be  loike  Tim  in  the  song: 

"  '  Oil,  a  wlddy  she  lived  in  Llmorick  town, 
Kot  far  from  Shannon  water, 
An'  Tim  kept  company  wid  her, 

A  coortin'  av  Biddy,  her  danghter. 
But  Micky  M'Graw  cut  in  between, 
And  I'uu  nway  wid  Biddy. 
"  Bcgovra !"  gays  Tim,'"  the  danp;hter'8  jjo'ie, 
So,  faix,  I'll  take  the  widdy  !" 
The  widdy  1 
Not  Biddy ! 
The  foud  and  faiilifiil  widdy! 
Whooroor  I' " 

Singing  this,  tlie  jovial  monarch  caught 
Mrs.  Hubaell's  hand  iu  his,  and  proceeded 
to  dance  in  a  manner  which  was  far  more 
boisterous  than  dignified.  3[rs.  Russell,  al- 
ways fond  and  indulgent,  lent  herself  to 
the  rcyal  whim,  and  danced  much  more 
vigorously  than  could  have  been  expected 
from  a  person  of  her  years.  Katie  clapped 
her  hands  in  childish  glee.  The  Carlists 
all  applauded.  The  others  loolied  puzzled. 
"His  Majesty"  finally  concluded  his  little 
dance,  after  whicli  Mrs.  Russell  clung  to 
him  in  a  languishing  attitude,  and  looked 
like  a  caricature  of  each  of  those  other 
younger  ladies  who  were  all  clinging  so 
fondly  to  their  respective  lovers.  The 
sight  of  Mr.s.  Russell  in  that  languishing 
attitude  came  home  to  the  hearts  and  con- 
sciences of  tlie  younger  ladies,  who  all  re- 
linquished their  lovers'  arms,  and  insisted 
on  standing  by  themselves. 

Brooke  had  listened  thoughtfully  to  all 
that  had  thus  far  been  said.  The  Carlisf 
chief  was  a  puzzle  to  him,  but  he  saw  that 
there  was  talk  of  liolding  to  ransom,  which 
to  him  had  an  ugly  sound. 

"  Sir,"  said  he,  "  are  we  to  be  kept  pris- 
oners in  tliis  tower?" 

"  This  tower,  is  it  ?"  said  "  His  JIajcsty." 
"  Bcgorra,  I  hope  not.  Tiierc's  another 
tower  a  dale  bctthcr  nor  this.  It's  mcsilf 
that  'ud  bo  the  proud  man  til  let  ycz  all 
go,  an'  yez  'ud  all  be  prouder,  I'll  go  bail ; 


but  in  that  case,  shure  to  glory,  I'd  be  a 
loser;  but  I  hope  to  find  yez  comfortable 
quarthers  in  a  foine  stone  house  not  a  thou- 
sand moiles  from  this.  Ye'U  all  be  as  com- 
fortable  as  ould  Diuny  M'Divitt  iu  the 


"'In  a  lioantiful  palace  nv  Btone 

Kesoided  ould  Diuny  M'Divitt; 
lie  wore  a  most  beautiful  linj^ 

That  were  fixed  round  his  wrist  wid  a  rivet. 
'Twas  the  Judge,  shure,  that  sintinced  liim  there, 

An'  there  all  the  boys  wint  til  view  him, 
For  the  jury  cousidhered  him  dull 

At  discernin'  twixt  "mayum"  and  "  chuum." 
So  fill  up  for  the  toast  an'  I'll  give  it : 
Here's  a  health  to  bowld  Diuny  M'Divitt  1' " 

At  this  the  monarch  raised  the  bottle  to 
his  mouth  and  took  another  long,  long 
pull. 

From  this  Brooke  gathered  that  they 
were  to  be  taken  to  the  castle.  He  asked 
"His  Majesty"  if  this  were  so. 

"Bcgorra,  ye've  hit  it," said  "His  Majes- 
ty." 

"  Is  there  anything  to  prevent  our  being 
taken  there  at  once  ?"  asked  Brooke. 

"  Bedad,  there's  iverything  in  loife. 
Shure,  I've  come  on  a  surprise  -  party  til 
capture  the  castle." 

It  occurred  to  Brooke  that  this  was  a 
curious  way  to  surprise  a  castle— by  kind- 
ling torches,  dancing,  and  singing  songs  ; 
but  he  made  no  remark  upon  that.  He 
saw  that  the  chief  supposed  the  castle  to 
be  defended,  and  so  he  hastened  to  unde- 
ceive him. 

"  His  Majesty  "  listened  in  amazement  to 
Brooke's  story. 

"  Bcgorra,"  said  he,  "  here's  another  sur- 
prise !  Didn't  I  say  Ave  were  a  surj)rised 
party  ?  Shure,  an'  ye've  all  showed  pluck, 
ivery  man  jack  av  yez,  includin'  the  ladies. 
An'  that  same  '11  have  to  be  considliered  iu 
our  thraitmint  wid  yez  about  the  ransom. 
Shure,  I'll  deduct  five  per  cint.,  so  I  will. 
Nobody  shall  say  we're  not  magnanimous. 
But  bein'  as  there's  nobody  there,  shure,  the 
best  thing  for  us  to  do  is  to  go  over  at 
onct  and  raysmne  possission." 

With  these  words  the  monarch  retired  to 
give  orders  to  his  men,  and  in  a  short  time 
the  whole  band,  together  with  their  pris- 
oners, had  passed  over  and  had  taken  pos- 
session. 


178 


A  CASTLE  IN  SPAIN. 


CHAPTER  LX. 

i.v  wnicu  THE  king  comes  to  claim  uis  own. 

The  party  of  prisoners  was  conducted  by 
"  His  Majesty  "  to  that  upper  room  which 
had  formerly  I)ceu  occupied  by  the  ladies. 
Mrs.  Ilussell  clung  to  the  royal  person  as 
fondly  as  ever.  It  was  a  critical  hour  in 
the  destinies  of  Spain. 

"AVhere's  Rita,"  cried  "His  Majesty," 
"  that  cook  of  cooks  ?  Ifs  starvin'  we  are. 
I  haven't  seen  her  anywheres.  I'll  go  an' 
hunt  her  up." 

With  these  words  he  hurried  out,  follow- 
ed by  Mrs.  Russell.  They  descended  the 
stairs,  and  their  footsteps  died  away  in  the 
distance.  No  one  was  now  with  the  pris- 
oners except  the  wounded  Republicans. 

"Let  us  fly!"  said  Harry,  in  a  quick, 
sharp  whisper. 

He  hurried  Katie  to  the  chimney,  and, 
clambering  up,  drew  her  after  him.  The 
others  followed  at  once.  Dolores  came 
next  to  Harry. 

"  I  know  a  secret  way  out,"  said  she.  "  I 
will  show  the  way.  Let  me  go  ahcq^d.  I 
know  it  in  the  dark." 

"  Do  you  T  said  Harry.  "  Oh,  then  go 
ahead." 

Upon  this  Dolores  took  the  lead  along 
with  Ashby ;  Harry  and  Katie  came  next, 
while  Brooke  and  Talljot  brought  up  the 
rear,  these  last  being  full  of  wonder  at  this 
unexpected  revelation  of  the  passage-way. 

By  this  time  each  member  of  the  party 
had  gained  a  full  and  complete  compre- 
liension  as  well  as  appreciation  of  the  pres- 
ent state  of  things,  l)oth  with  reference  to 
the  old  lover,  ami  nlso  the  new  one.  Em- 
barrassment had  now  passed  away,  and  all 
were  full  of  hope,  joy,  and  enthusiasm. 

Suddenly  a  >'  How  groan  sounded 
through  the  darkness. 

"  Wlio's  there  ?"  cried  Ashby,  in  Spanish. 

"  Help  !  help !"  said  a  faint  voice,  in  Eng- 
lish. 

"An  Englishman!"  cried  Ashby,  speak- 
ing in  English,,     "  Who  are  you  ?" 

"Oh,  help!  help!  I'm  a  prisoner.  A 
fiend  has  me  in  her  power!  Once  I  was 
named  Russell,  but  no^«'  —  oh  !  oh !  my 
name  is  Rita!'' 

Full  of  wonder,  Ashby  felt  his  way  for- 
ward, and  found  a  man  on  the  floor.  His 
legs  and  arms  were  tied.  He  was  almost 
speechless,  partly  from  terror  and  partly 
from  joy.  In  a  few  words  he  told  his 
story,  which  need  not  be  repeated  here. 


Rita  had  bound  him,  and  had  only  left  him 
a  short  time  before  at  the  sudden  noise 
of  their  ap})roach.  It  was  not  until  after- 
ward that  they  understood  the  whole  sto- 
ry, for  just  then  they  were  in  too  great  a 
huriy  to  ask  questions.  A  pull  from  Ash- 
by's  brandy-flask  partly  restored  Russell's 
strength,  but  more  was  accomplished  by 
his  joy  at  this  unexpected  deliverance. 
Terror  also  came  to  his  aiil  and  lent  him 
strength,  and  he  was  now  more  anxious 
than  any  of  them  to  fly  from  this  awful 
prison-house. 

Dolores  now  led  the  way  as  before,  and 
they  all  followed  down  long  steps  and 
crooked  passage-ways  until  at  last  they 
reached  the  outlet.  Here  they  found  them- 
selves in  the  chasm.  A  hasty  consultation 
ended  in  the  decision  not  to  go  to  the 
tower  for  fear  lest  Carlists  might  be  there. 
They  concluded,  therefore,  to  go  along  the 
chasm  for  some  distance,  and  then  ascend 
to  the  open  country  above,  and  after  this 
to  go  forward  as  far  as  possible  that  same 
night. 

They  traversed  the  chasm  in  this  way, 
and  at  length  reached  the  top,  where  they 
found  themselves  to  be  about  a  mile  away 
from  the  castle.  Here  the  ground  sloped 
gently,  descending  into  a  broad  valley,  to 
which  they  decided  to  go.  In  this  direc- 
tion they  therefore  proceeded  as  carefully 
as  possible,  and  had  gone  aliout  two  miles 
in  safety  when  suddenly  they  became  aware 
of  a  great  noise,  like  the  quick  trot  of  nu- 
merous horses.  It  was  advancing  so  rap- 
idly that  they  had  no  time  to  take  meas- 
ures for  escape,  and  before  they  could  con- 
sult together  a  troop  of  liorsemen  came 
over  a  rising  ground  in  front  and  galloped 
straight  toward  them. 

A  wild  look  all  around  showed  them  the 
hopelessness  of  their  situation.  The  coun- 
try was  open.  There  was  not  a  house  or  a 
fence  or  a  tree  or  a  bush  that  might  afl'ord 
a  hiding-place.  Flight  Avas  useless.  They 
could  do  nothing  now  but  trust  to  the  faint 
hope  that  they  might  be  deemed  unworthy 
of  attention.  But  soon  this  hope  proved 
vain.  They  were  seen  —  they  were  sur- 
rounded— they  were  again  prisoners. 

They  soon  learned  that  this  new  band 
consisted  of  Carlists;  that  they  were  on 
the  way  to  the  castle  to  join  the  King,  wlio 
had  gone  on  before. 

Tlie  King  1  ' 

Katie  knew  who  that  waf,.  ITarry  was 
puzzled,   as   he   always  hau    been,  about 


"the   jovial    MONARtll   CAUOllT   MRS.  RUSSELL's   HAND   IN    HIS,  AND   rROCKKnED  TO   DANCE." 


JU> 


A  CASTLE  IN  SPAIN. 


17t) 


"  His  Mnjcsty."  Dolores  also  was  niysti- 
lied,  since  she  had  never  believed  that 
"  Ilia  Miijesty"  was  wiiat  he  pretended  to 
be.  Asld)y,  also,  had  not  believed  it,  and 
now  was  more  puzzled  than  any  of  them. 
Brooke  and  Talljot,  however,  were  stran- 
j^ers  to  tlic  pretensions  of  that  singular  be- 
ing wlio  called  himself  King,  and  there- 
fore hoped  that  this  would  turn  out  for 
the  best.  As  for  Kussell,  he  was  in  de- 
spair, for  to  liim  "  His  iMajesty  "  was  more 
dreaded  than  any  other  human  being,  with 
the  single  and  terrible  exception  of  lUta. 
And  now  he  felt  himself  dragged  back  to 
meet  him — worse,  to  meet  Hita.  Despair 
took  full  possession  of  him.  All  his  strength 
left  him,  and  one  of  the  troopers  had  to  give 
up  his  horse  to  the  world-worn  captive. 

It  was  with  such  feelings  as  these  that 
the  party  reached  the  castle,  and  were  led 
up-stairs  into  the  presence  of  the  King. 

The  tirst  glance  which  they  gave  around 
showed  them  that  there  had  been  a  slight 
mistake  somewhere. 

Down  below,  the  court-yard  and  the 
lower  hall  were  full  of  men.  Here  there 
were  twenty  or  thirty,  all  in  the  unitbrm 
of  officers;  all  men  of  distinguished  air  and 
good-breeding;  all  gentlemen,  and  far  dif- 
ferent from  the  ragged  gang  whom  they 
had  last  encountered  here. 

In  the  centre  of  this  company  stood  a 
man  who  at  once  attracted  to  himself  the 
eyes  of  the  party  of  prisoners.  lie  was  of 
medium  size,  with  heavy  black  mustache 
and  dark,  penetrating  eyes.  lie  had  the 
air  of  one  who  had  always  been  accustom- 
ed to  the  respectful  obedience  of  others ; 
an  air  of  connnand  which  rested  well  upon 
his  bold  and  resolute  face.  It  was  the  face 
of  one  who  lived  in  the  consciousness  that 
he  was  the  centre  and  strength  and  hope 
of  a  gallant  party;  of  one  who  believed 
himself  to  hold  a  divine  commission  to  re- 
generate a  fallen  country;  of  one  who  knew 
that  he  alone  in  all  the  world  held  up  aloft 
at  the  head  of  an  army  the  proud  banner 
of  Conservatism  ;  of  one  who,  for  this  mis- 
sion, had  given  up  case  and  luxury  and 
self- indulgence ;  had  entered  upon  a  life 
of  danger,  hardship,  and  ceaseless  toil,  and 
every  day  lived  in  the  very  presence  of 
Death  ;  in  short,  they  saw  before  them  the 
idol  of  the  Spanish  Legitimists — the  high- 
souled,  the  chivalrous  Don  Carlos. 

The  quick,  penetrating  glance  which  ho 
threw  upon  the  party  soon  faded  away  into 
a  pleasant  smile. 


"  Welcome,  ladies !"  said  he  ;  "  welcome, 
gentlemen  !  Some  one  spoke  of  a  party  of 
prisoners;  I  had  no  hojje  of  such  good  f  )rt- 
une  as  to  meet  with  guests.  lUit  you  must 
have  met  with  some  misfortune,  in  wliich 
case  let  mc  help  you." 

He  spoke  in  Spanish,  of  course — a  lan- 
guage which  is  usually  spoken  in  Spain ; 
and  a  very  pretty  language  it  is,  too,  and 
one  which  I  should  advise  all  mj'  readers 
to  learn ;  for  they  would  fuul  it  uncommon- 
ly useful  in  case  they  should  ever  lind 
themselves  in  a  castle  in  Spain. 

It  was  Harry  who  replied.  He  told  the 
whole  story  as  far  as  it  was  known  to  him- 
self, dwelling  especially  upon  the  character 
and  actions  of  that  strange  being  who  had 
played  the  rok  of  monarch.  Harry's  light 
and  playful  nature  threw  a  tinge  of  com- 
icality around  the  whole  story,  which  was 
highly  appreciated  by  all  his  hearers.  And 
so  it  was  that  a  smile  began  to  go  round, 
until  at  length  it  deepened  and  developed 
into  laughter,  and  so  went  on  deepening 
and  broadening  and  intensifying,  until  at 
last  the  laughter  grew,  if  not  Homeric,  at 
least  louil  enough  and  long  enough  for  a 
castle  in  Spain. 

"  It's  the  Irishman  !''  cried  Don  Carlos — 
"it's  the  Irish  guerilla!  It's  O'Toole  !  The 
villain  !  he  shall  hang  for  this  I" 

Harry  was  too  good-natured  to  feel  re- 
vengeful, and  was  just  beginning  to  beg  for 
O'Toole's  life,  when  suddenly  there  arose 
behind  them  the  sound  of  hurried  foot- 
steps, folloAved  by  wild  cries.  All  turned, 
and  a  strange  figure  met  their  eyes. 

It  was  a  woman.  She  wore  a  military 
cloak  and  an  officer's  kepi.  She  looked 
wildly  around. 

"  Where  is  he  ?  Where  is  my  own  one?" 
she  cried — '' '  His  JIajesty  ?'  Where  is  the 
ho]ic  of  S])ain  V 

Russell  saw  her. 

He  threw  out  wide  his  manly  arms  —  he 
opened  his  mouth  :  "Jew — li — a-r-r-r-r-r-r!" 

With  a  long,  loud  cry  he  shouted  this 
name,  and  rushed  toward  her. 

Mrs.  Russell  saw  him  coming — her  lost, 
lamented  lord !  the  one  whom  she  had 
mourned  as  dead !  Was  this  his  ghost  ? 
or  was  he  indeed  alive  ?  In  any  case, 
the  shock  was  awful  for  a  woman  of  del- 
icate nerves;  and  Mrs.  Russell  prided  her- 
self on  being  a  woman  of  very  delicate 
nerves. 

So  she  did  what  a  woman  of  delicate 
nerves  ought  to  do — she  gave  a  loud,  long, 


ICiO 


A  CASTLE  IN  SPAIN. 


pitrciiifi  .sliriuk,  and  fainted  dead  away  iu 
her  fond  husband's  arms. 

Don  Carlos  gave  a  grin,  and  then  pulled 
at  his  nuistache. 

"Another  victim,"  said  he  to  the  hiugh- 
ing  comimny.  "Oh  yes;  O'Toolc  shall 
certainly  swing  for  this.  Discipline  must 
anil  '  'lall  be  )naintaineil.  Send  out  and 
ca;.  ,1  the  fellow.  Have  him  up  here  at 
ouce." 

They  sent  out  and  they  hunted  every- 
where, but  nowhere  could  they  discover 
any  traces  of  the  brilliant,  the  festive,  the 
imaginative,  the  mimetic,  the  ingenious 
O'Toole.     He  was  never  seen  again. 

Some  say  that  in  the  dead  of  night  two 
figures  might  have  been  seen  slowly  wend- 
ing their  way  up  the  path  toward  the  to\^- 
er;  that  the  one  looked  like  O'Toole  and 
the  other  looked  like  Kita.  It  may  have 
been  so ;  many  things  arc  possible  in  this 
evil  world ;  and  if  so,  wc  must  suppose 
that  these  two  gradually  faded  away  among 
the  mists  of  cloud-land  that  always  sur- 
round a  castle  iu  Spain. 


CHAPTER  LXI. 

IK   WinCII    TIIEUE   IS  AN   END  OF  MV  STOHY. 

The  illustrious  host  received  his  guests 
with  large  and  lavish  hospitality.  The 
best  that  could  be  aftbrded  by  a  bounteous 
connnissariat  was  placed  before  them.  The 
table  was  laid.tho  banquet  Was  spread,  and 
all  the  company  sat  down  together. 

At  the  head  of  the  table  was  Don  Carlos. 

On  his  right  was  Talbot,  with  Brooke 
beside  her. 

On  his  left  was  Katie,  with  Harry  beside 
her. 

Next  to  Harry  was  Dolores,  with  Ashby 
beside  her. 

Next  to  Brooke  was  a  priest  in  somewhat 
martial  attire,  whom  Don  Carlos  introduced 
to  them  as — The  Cure  of  Santa  Cniz! 

Ho  was  a  broad-shouldered,  middle-aged 
man,  Avith  strongly  marked  features,  eagle 
eye,  and  bold  and  resolute  face.  This  was 
the  very  man  whom  Brooke  had  once  per- 
sonated ;  but  Brooke  was  just  now  silent 
about  that  particular  matter,  nor  did  he 
care  to  mention  to  any  of  his  Spanish 
friends  the  fact  that  he  was  an  American, 
and  a  newspaper  correspondent.  In  spite 
of  the  passports  and  credentials  with  which 
his  wallet  was  stuffed  and  with  which  his 


pockets  bristled,  he  had  not  been  recog- 
nized by  any  one  present ;  a  fact  that  seems 
to  show  that  those  papers  had  been  ob- 
tained from  some  of  the  inferior  officers  of 
Don  Carlos,  or  perhaps  IVoni  some  other 
corresi)ondent  who  had  fallen  in  the  prac- 
tice of  ills  professional  duties. 

The  Cur6  of  Santa  Cruz  said  grace,  and 
the  banquet  began. 

Don  Carlos  was  a  man  of  joyous  soul 
and  large,  exuberant  sjiirit,  with  a  gener- 
ous, romantic,  and  heroic  nature.  He  also 
knew  how  to  lay  aside,  on  occasion,  all  the 
cares  of  his  position ;  so  now  he  Avas  no 
longer  the  commander  of  a  gallant  army, 
the  banner-bearer  of  a  great  cause,  the 
claimant  of  a  throne.  On  the  contrary,  he 
was  the  simple  gentleman  among  other 
gentlemen — primim  inter  jtarcs — the  hospi- 
table host,  chiefly  intent  u])on  performing 
the  pleasing  duties  of  that  office. 

He  had  also  showed  such  an  amial)le  in- 
terest iu  the  adventures  of  his  guests  that 
they  had  frankly  told  him  all  that  was  of 
any  interest.  Harry  had  a  more  confiding 
disposition  than  the  others,  and  after  the 
ladies  iiad  retired  he  disclosed  more  and 
more  of  their  affairs,  until  at  last  their  gal- 
lant host  had  obtained  a  very  clear  idea  of 
the  sentimental  side  of  the  story. 

"  Gentlemen,"  said  Don  Carlos  at  length, 
"to-morrow  we  shall  resume  our  march, 
and  I  shall  be  happy  to  do  for  you  all  in 
my  power.  I  shall  be  sorry  to  part  with 
you,  yet  glad  to  restore  you  to  your  libertj'. 
A  company  will  take  you  to  the  nearest 
railway  station,  from  which  you  can  pro- 
ceed to  your  respective  destinations.  But 
before  you  go  allow  me  to  offer  you  a  sug- 
gestion which  I  am  sure  you  will  not  take 
amiss. 

"  You,  gentlemen,  are  looking  forward 
to  the  time  when  these  lovely  and  amiable 
ladies  shall  sustain  the  closest  possible  re- 
lation toward  you.  You  will  pardon  me, 
I  trust,  if  I  hint  just  now  that  their  posi- 
tion is  a  very  embarrassing  one,  travelling 
as  they  are  without  proper  chaperonagc. 
In  Spanish  eyes  that  is  a  calamitj'.  Now, 
the  suggestion  that  I  was  about  to  make  is 
this,  namely,  that  you  should  free  these  la- 
dies from  this  embarrassment  by  persuad- 
ing them  to  accept  you  now  as  their  legal 
protectors.  Surely  nothing  can  be  more 
desirable  on  all  sides.  No  place  can  be 
more  fitting  than  this ;  no  hour  more  con- 
venient ;  no  scene  more  romantic.  As  for 
the  priest,  here  sits  my  reverend  friend  tho 


A  CASTLE  IN  SPAIN. 


181 


Cui'C  of  Simtiv  Cruz— a  warrior-priest,  an 
eccentric  cliaracter,  yet  a  brave  and  noble 
soul ;  and  he,  lei  nie  assure  you,  can  tie  the 
knot  so  tight  that  it  could  not  be  made 
tighter  even  by  the  Holy  Father  himself, 
assisted  by  the  Patriarch  ol"  Constantinople 
and  the  Archbishop  of  Canterbury." 

This  suggestion  came  as  sudden  as  thun- 
der from  a  clear  sky ;  yet  after  the  first 
shock  it  was  considered  by  all  present,  and 
especially  by  those  most  concerned,  as — 
first,  in:  iiious;  then,  hajiiJV ;  then,  nujst 
excellent ;  and,  finally,  glorious.  When 
this  unparalleled  and  matchless  royal 
speech  was  ended  the  whole  company  burst 
forth  into  rapturous  api)lause. 

Ashby  and  Harry,  in  wild  excitement, 
forgot  everything  but  their  old  frien<lship 
and  their  latest  love.  They  grasped  one 
another's  hands  with  all  their  olden  fer- 
vor. 

"  Hurrah,  old  fellow  I"  cried  Harry. 

"Glorious!  isn't  it,  old  boyi"'  cried 
Ashby. 

"  I'll  do  it ;  won't  you  ?''  cried  Harry. 

"  I  will,  by  Jove !"'  cried  Ashby. 

And  thus  that  quarrel  was  settled. 

Brooke  said  nothing,  but  his  eyes  grew 
moist  in  his  deep  joy,  and  he  muttered  and 
hummed  all  to  himself  the  words  of  some 
strange  old  song  which  had  no  connection 
with  anything  at  all.  For  this  was  his 
fashion,  the  odd  old  boy!  whenever  his 
feelings  were  deeply  stirred,  and  he  fell 
into  that  fashion  now  : 

"  I  never  knew  reiil  Imppincss 
Till  I  became  ii  Methddess; 
So  ciimi",  my  love,  and  jine  with  nic, 
Foi'  here's  ii  parson  '11  many  we. 
Conio  for'ac'  and  jine, 
Come  for'ad  and  Jiiio, 
This  night  come  for'ad  and  jine. 
A-A-A-A-A-mea  I" 

During  the  banquet  and  the  subscqi;ont 
proceedings  the  virtuous  Russell  had  been 
silent  and  distrait.  Though  restored  to 
the  arms  of  the  best  of  wives,  still  he  was 
not  happy.  There  was  yet  something  want- 
ing. And  what  was  that?  Need  I  say 
that  it  was  the  lost  package  with  the  pre- 
cious l)onds  ?  All  no,  for  every  one  will 
surely  divine  the  feelings  and  thouglits  of 
this  sorrowfid  man. 

And  he  in  his  abstraction  had  been  try- 
ing to  think  what  could  be  done ;  for  the 
bonds  were  lost  to  him :  they  were  not  in 
the  place  where  he  had  concealed  them. 
What  that  place  really  was  he  now  knew 
only  too  well.     Had  that  fiend  Rita  found 


them  ?  Perhaps  so — yet  perhaps  not.  On 
the  whole,  as  a  last  resort,  he  concluded 
that  it  would  be  best  to  appeid  to  Don  Car- 
los. His  face  indicated  goodness,  and  his 
whole  treatment  of  the  party  invited  con- 
fidence ;  there  surely  he  might  meet  with 
synqjathy,  and  if  the  package  had  l;een 
found  by  any  of  the  Carlists  it  might  bo 
restored. 

And  so,  as  the  uproar  subsided,  Russell 
arose,  and  walking  toward  Don  Carlos, 
suddenly,  and  to  tlie  aina/ement  and  amuse- 
ment of  all  present,  fiung  himself  on  his 
knees,  crying, 

"  A  boon  !  a  boon,  my  liege  !" 

These  j)r"posterous  words  had  lingered 
in  his  memory  from  some  absurd  reading 
of  his  boyhood. 

Don  Carlos  smiled.  "What  does  he 
say  r'  he  asked. 

Harry  came  forward  to  act  as  interpreter. 

Russell  now  told  all.  Harry  knew  in 
part  the  fortunes  of  the  bonds  after  they 
liad  left  Russell's  hands;  but  then  they  had 
again  been  lost,  so  that  he  could  not  tell 
what  had  finally  become  of  them.  Of  his 
own  part  in  finding  tiiem,  and  then  con- 
cealing them  again,  he  thought  best  to  say 
nothing. 

Ashby,  however,  had  something  to  say 
which  Avas  very  much  to  the  purpose.  It 
seems  that  Dolores  had  found  the  bonds, 
had  kept  them,  '^t-d  had  finally  handed 
them  over  to  Ashby  for  safe-keeping.  He 
at  once  concluded  that  they  were  Katie's, 
and  was  waiting  for  a  convenient  ojjportn- 
nity  to  restore  them.  The  opportunity  had 
now  come.  This  was  his  simple  story,  but 
as  it  was  told  to  Don  Carlos  in  Spanish, 
Russell  did  not  understand  one  word. 

"  Where  are  they  now  ?"  asked  Don 
Carlos. 

"  Here,"  said  Ashby,  and  he  produced 
the  package  from  his  coat-poekct. 

"  Give  them  to  me,"  said  Don  Carlos. 
"I  will  arrange  it  all.  Do  you  know,  gen- 
tlemen, this  is  the  happiest  moment  of  my 
life.  I  seem  like  a  kind  of  Deus  ex  mnchina 
coming  in  at  the  right  time  at  the  end  of 
a  series  of  adventures  to  produce  universal 
peace  and  harmony." 

"  I  hope  and  trust,"  said  Ashby,  "  that 
'Your  ^lajcsty '  may  be  the  Deus  ex  machina 
for  all  Spain,  and  intei-pose  at  last  to  pro- 
duce universal  peace  and  harmony  here." 

"  Seiior,"  said  Don  Carlos, "  you  talk  like 
a  born  courtier ;  yet  at  the  same  time,"  he 
added,  in  a  solemn  tone,  "  what  you  have 


182 


A  CASTLE  IN  SPAIN. 


just  said  is  the  high  hope  nuil  aspiration 
of  my  life." 

After  this  crcclitablc  little  speech  Ashhy 
handed  over  the  package,  and  Don  Carlos 
took  it.  At  tiiis  sight  the  lower  jaw  of  the 
venerable  Russell  fell  several  inches.  This 
Don  Carlos  seemed  to  him  not  one  whit 
better  than  the  other.  The  bonds  were 
now  lost  to  him  forever.  That  was  plain 
enough.  Yet  he  dared  not  say  a  word. 
After  all,  they  were  not  his,  but  Katie's. 
Harry  knew  that,  and  Ashby  also.  What 
could  he  say?  lie  was  dumb,  and  so  he 
crawled  back,  discomfited  and  despairing, 
to  his  seat. 

"  Gentlemen,"  said  Don  Carlos,  "  you  must 
use  your  utmost  efforts  with  the  ladies. 
Everytliing  shall  be  done  that  can  be  most 
fitting  to  the  occasion.  We  shall  have 
music  and  festivities.  It  is  not  often  that 
I  have  adventures  like  these.  Let  the  old 
castle  renew  its  youth.  Let  Jiese  walls 
ring  to  music  and  song.  Don't  let  the 
ladies  escape  you,  gentlemen.  If  anything 
is  wanting  to  your  persuasions,  tell  them — 
as  that  rascal  O'Toole,  my  double,  would 
say — tell  them  that  it  is  '  our  royal  will.'  " 

Another  burst  of  applause,  mingled  with 
laugiiter,  followed,  after  which  Harry,  Ash- 
l)y,  and  Brooke  hurried  off  to  see  the  la- 
dies. 

What  passed  between  the  different  cou- 
ples on  that  memorable  occasion,  what  ob- 
jections were  made,  on  the  one  hand,  by 
shrinking  modesty,  and  what  arguments 
and  entreaties  were  put  forth,  on  the  oth- 
er hand,  by  the  ardent  lovers,  need  not  be 
narrated  here.  Whether  it  was  moek  com- 
pliance with  a  loved  one's  wish,  or  dread 
of  Spanish  etiquette,  or  respect  for  the 
"  royal  will,"  or  whatever  else  it  may  have 
been,  suffice  it  to  say  that  at  last  the  de- 
lighted swains  won  a  consent  from  the 
blushing  maidens ;  after  which  they  rushed 
forth  in  wild  rapture  to  spend  the  remain- 
der of  the  night  in  prolonged  festivities 
with  their  gallant  host  and  his  festive 
band  of  cavaliers. 

There  was  one,  however,  who  took  no 
part  in  all  this.  Excusing  himself  from  the 
festive  board  on  the  plea  of  ill  health,  he 
held  aloof,  a  prey  to  dark  and  gloomy  sus- 
picions. These  he  communicated  to  Har- 
ry before  the  "  evening  session  "  began.  It 
seemed  that  the  much  afflicted  Russell,  be- 
lieving the  true  Don  Carlos  to  be  no  better 
than  the  false  one,  held  the  firm  conviction 
that  the  bonds  had  been  appropriated  by 


him  for  his  own  purposes,  and  that  their 
proceeds  would  be  sfiuandered  on  the  ex- 
travagant schemes  of  the  hojjeless  Carlist 
ii»surrcetion.  But  Harry  scouted  the  idea. 
"  Keep  them  ?  He  keep  them  V  he  cried. 
"  Never !     Don  Carlos  is  a  gentleman.'' 

At  this  Russell  groaned  and  turned 
away. 

Meanwhile  the  preparations  for  the  com- 
ing event  were  diligently  carried  on.  Be- 
fore morning  the  ancient  chapel  of  the 
hoary  castle  was  decked  out  with  ever- 
greens brought  from  the  neighboring  for- 
est, and  everything  was  made  ready  for  the 
•aarriage-feast. 

Morning  came.  All  gathered  in  the 
chapel,  which  in  its  robe  of  evergreens 
looked  like  a  bower. 

The  three  buglers  and  one  tlrummer  be- 
longing to  the  troop  played  in  magnifi- 
cent strains  the  stirring  notes  of  the  '•  Wed- 
ding March." 

The  CurC  of  Santa  Cruz  presented  an 
unexceptionable  appearance  in  his  eccle- 
siastical robes. 

Tliere,  too,  was  the  man  who  claimed  to 
be  the  rightful  King  of  Spain,  surrounded 
by  men  who  represented  some  of  the  no- 
blest families  of  the  nation — an  illustrious 
company,  the  like  of  which  none  of  the 
principals  in  this  ceremony  had  ever  dream- 
ed of  as  likely  to  be  present  at  his  wed- 
ding. 

The  bridegrooms  came,  looking,  it  must 
be  confessed,  slightly  seedy. 

Then  came  the  brides,  resplendent  iu 
their  best  attire,  procured  from  the  lug- 
gage which  had  been  brought  here  at  the 
time  of  their  capture  by  O'Toole. 

There  were  no  bride'smaids.  But  Mrs. 
Russell  was  present,  leaning  on  the  arm  of 
her  beloved  husljand,  all  in  tears.  And 
why?  Was  it  from  regrets  for  the  lost 
crown  of  Spain  ?  or  was  it  merely  from  the 
tender  sentiment  which  is  usually  called 
forth  on  such  an  occasion  ?  or  was  it  from 
the  thought  of  that  one  whose  fortunes  she 
had  followed  for  many  eventful  hours  with 
a  view  to  such  a  conclusion  as  this  ? 

No  matter. 

Reader,  let  us  draw  a  veil  over  the  emo- 
tions of  this  afflicted  lad}'. 

The  marriages  went  on.  The  knots  were 
all  tied. 

Then  came  the  wedding  breakfast. 

Don  Carlos  was  in  his  best  mood.  He 
jested,  he  laughed,  he  paid  innumerable 
compliments  to  the  ladies,  and  finally  gave 


A  CASTLE  IN  SPAIN. 


Ids 


the  whole  piirty  an  invitation  to  visit  liim 
on  aoiuc  future  diiy  iit  liis  royiil  court  in 
Madrid.  Wiiicli  invitation,  it  may  be  stated 
parentiietieaiiy,  lias  not  yet  been  accepted. 

After  this  little  speech  Don  Carlos  hand- 
ed over  to  Harry  the  Spanish  bonds. 

"I  understand,"  said  lie,  "  that  your  lady 
will  soon  bo  of  age,  but,  under  any  circum- 
stances, according  to  Spanish  law  the  iius- 
l)and  is  entitled  to  receive  all  the  property 
of  his  wife.  Take  this,  therefore,  and  yon 
will  thus  relievo  our  aged  friend  yonder, 
the  venerable  Senor  Russell,  from  all  fur- 
ther responsibility  as  guardian." 

Harry  took  it,  and  ctmhl  not  help  casting 
a  triumphant  glance  at  llussell,  but  that 
good  man  looked  away.  He  afterward 
told  his  wife  that  he  had  lost  all  faith  in 
Providence,  and  felt  but  little  desire  to  live 


any  longer  in  fluch  an  evil  world.  Since 
the  bonds  were  lost  to  liini  it  mattered  not 
who  gained  them — whether  Bourbon,  ban- 
dit, or  bridegroom. 

At  length  the  hour  of  their  departure 
came.  The  luggage  was  heaped  uj)  in  a 
huge  wagon.  Another  wagon  was  ready 
to  take  the  ladies,  anti  horses  were  pre- 
pared for  the  gentlemen.  With  these  a 
troof)  of  horsenuii  was  sent  as  a  guard. 

As  they  passed  out  through  the  gates 
Don  Carlos  stood  and  bade  them  all  fare- 
well. 

So  they  passed  i'orth  on  iheir  way  to  lib- 
erty, and  home,  and  happiness ;  and  so  they 
moved  along,  until  at  length  tlie  Castle, 
with  its  hoary  walls,  its  lofty  towers,  its 
weather-beaten  turrets  and  battlements,  was 
lost  in  the  distance. 


TUE  END. 


